


The New World Twin's Adventures at Hogwarts With the Sorcerer's Stone

by Ollieollieupandfree (orphan_account)



Series: The New World Twin's Adventures at Hogwarts [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Young America, Young Canada, first year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 08:38:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 20,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12908265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Ollieollieupandfree
Summary: When Harry Potter starts his first year, England knows he needs protection. But with an invisible (and lonely) Canada and a magic hating (and over-stressed) America befriending the Golden Trio, shenanigans are insured. And not covered by Hogwarts's insurance. But something dark is rising, and they all need to be prepared...





	1. Prologue: 53 Years Before: Of Meetings, Conversations, and Magic

**Author's Note:**

> This was written when I was younger, so it's not very good and my end notes (which are the original end notes) are quite. . . immature. Forgive me, my friends.

#  Prologue: 53 Years Before; Of Meetings, Conversations and Magic

  
  


Should one be out and about in midday on July 2, 1938 they would notice a certain young man. This young man would appear in his early 20s, with lemon blond hair and extraordinarily large eyebrows wandering through Richmond Park. This young man-one Arthur Kirkland- would seem quite familiar to the inhabitants of London, and the UK as a whole. This was, perhaps, because he was the anthropomorphic personification of the nation England. And represented the UK as a whole at their meetings. His gait, though usually relaxed in his own country, was tense and frustrated. He had just been let out of yet another idiotic World Summit Meeting. Tensions, between all European countries, had been growing. And it was all due to two Nations; The brothers Germany and Prussia. Amazingly, the Asian Nations were not affected at all, despite how close many of them were to the Europeans. There was really only one Nation fighting to retain the peace throughout the continent; The Isolationist America. The young country did not wish to have another World War on his hands. Because everyone knew he would be dragged into it yet again. Arthur felt saddened for his former colony. The chromesthesia riddled Nation hated the sounds and colours of wars, and avoided them as much as possible. Which was hard to do in the modern world. Arthur was so lost in his thoughts, that he failed to notice the ball heading straight for his head. That is, until he was pulled roughly away from where he stood. Arthur’s acidic green eyes met caribbean blue(with just a hint of pink) orbs. These eyes, belonged to the Nation that had just preoccupied the former empire’s thoughts.

 

“Arthur! You have to be careful!” Alfred F. Jones-personification of the United States of America-cried. Arthur shook his head, clearing his thoughts.

 

“I do apologize, Alfred. I was lost in thought,” Arthur said, brushing his suit off. Arthur eyed his former colony critically. Alfred’s clothes were ragged and patched, appearing almost more than threadbare in the shade of the trees. His skin was gritty with sand, and it was all in his hair as well. His glasses were scratched and cracked in more than one place, and his ever present ahoge hung limply. Something it had not done since the Civil War. Alfred was going a Great Depression, and he had had several severe dust storms throughout the country that had not stopped since the 20s. Not for the first time, Arthur felt bad for the young Nation.

 

“It’s fine, Iggy! Just don’t do it again, I have enough worries as it is. Don’t need getting blamed for your injuries to be added the list,” Alfred laughed, ignoring the sand that fell out of his hair and clothing. Arthur grit his teeth, all pity for the other lost.

 

“Well. If all you came here for was to poke fun at me, then you may leave,” Arthur groused. Alfred dropped his grin.

 

“I was worried. After the meeting, you stormed out. Mattie was worried, too,” Alfred said, solemnly. Arthur’s eyes softened at the mention of America’s older brother.

 

“How is Matthew? I haven’t seen him in a while,” Arthur said softly. Alfred quirked a half smile.

 

“Neither have I. I think he’s avoiding me, probably blaming me for his own recession. He looked even worse than I do, last time I saw him.” Alfred looked away, avoiding his former mentor’s eyes. 

 

“I think the whole world is, love,” Arthur answered, observing Alfred from the corner of his eyes. The young Nation looked at the floor. Arthur had noticed he’d been doing that a lot, to hide the cuts on his cheeks. Arthur was almost completely sure that they were from the sand storms, but Alfred had been getting a lot of heat from his former friend, Russia. So it could have been evidence of that.

 

“I know. I’m isolationist, though. How is it any of my fault?” Alfred demanded, voice full of heat. Arthur led the boy to a bench, where they sat next to each other and observed a group of children playing.

 

“Despite your isolationist ways, you’re a major trading partner with almost all of us. When your Great Depression hit, others went down as well,” Arthur informed the boy sadly. Alfred nodded. 

 

“I know that, but…” Alfred trailed off and shook his head, “Let’s talk about something else! What orphanage are these children from?”

 

“Wool’s Orphanage. It’s been around for about a hundred years, and it’s quite good. Better than others, at least,” Arthur answered, frowning as the children purposefully excluded a twelve year old boy. Alfred followed his gaze to the boy.

 

“They’re excluding him. Isn’t that rude?” Alfred huffed, cocking his head.

 

“Quite,” Arthur said, distantly. The boy noticed their gazes and swiftly approached them.

 

“You were watching me. Why?” The boy demanded, hands on his hips. Arthur noticed Alfred brush his rose gold hair over his shoulder. It was the longest it had been since his colonial days.

 

“Why aren’t you playing with the other children?” Arthur asked.

 

“They’re all incredibly dull. I don’t want to. Plus, they’re all scared of me.” The boy answered, sneering at his fellow orphans.

 

“Why are they scared of you?” Alfred asked, his head still cocked like a curious bird’s.

 

“I can do things. Things the others can’t. Magic things.” The boy answered. Arthur felt more than saw Alfred stiffen next to him. He knew the younger could see the colour of truth in the boy’s words.

 

“What’s your name? And what school do you go to?” Arthur asked.

 

“Tom Riddle. I go to Hogwarts.” The boy-Tom-said proudly. Arthur smiled.

 

“So you’re a wizard, then. My name’s Arthur Kirkland, this boy beside me is Alfred F. Jones. It’s a pleasure, Tom.” Arthur introduced. 

 

“You know of Hogwarts?” Tom asked.

 

“I do. I attended there myself, not long ago. Slytherin house, and you?” Arthur asked.

 

“Slytherin, same as you. What of him?” Tom asked, nodding towards Alfred.

 

“Ah, yes. I do believe I’ve forgotten what house you placed in, Alfred. Refresh my memory, would you?” Arthur said, his voice light and teasing.

 

“I… do not remember.” Alfred answered, head down.

 

“Why not? You only graduated about two years ago. Hufflepuff, wasn’t it?” Arthur said, his voice still holding the inflections of before. He knew that Alfred wasn’t listening, so much as reading his words as they floated above his head in colours.

 

“No, that was Mattie’s. I was Ravenclaw,” Alfred answered.

 

“Ah, that’s right. I was surprised when you sent the letter proclaiming your house,” Arthur teased.

 

“Ravenclaw? You must be incredibly clever, then,” Tom said.

 

“Thank you. Although, I’ve heard that you have to be even more to be placed in Slytherin,” Alfred said, as humble as ever. 

 

“I would’ve expected you to be Gryffindor, though. You’ve got that look to you.” Tom looked Alfred up and down.

 

“Tom! We’re leaving!” A matronly woman called. Tom looked back at her and sneered.

 

“I have to leave. It was pleasant meeting with you. You’re intelligent conversation in a sea of idiots. Perhaps we’ll meet again some day!” Tom called as he jogged to the woman. As soon as he was gone, Alfred turned a thunderous gaze onto Arthur.

 

“You know how I feel about magic and wizards and such! And yet you drag me into a conversation with one?” Alfred seethed. Arthur shrugged and chuckled.

 

“Oh, lighten up, love! It won’t kill you to converse with a pleasant human,” Arthur chuckled. Alfred ducked his head, turning his glare to the ground. Arthur sobered up, “Besides… I have a feeling about that boy. And it isn’t a very good one.” 

 

“His words were tinted with red. He’s angry. At the world, I think.” Alfred whispered. The former colony pat his old mentor’s back, “But I must take my leave. I need to be getting back to my hotel. I leave for my house tomorrow morning.” Alfred stood and stretched, his back popping and cracked glasses glinting. Arthur smiled and bid his former charge adieu. Yes, he had a very bad feeling about that Tom Riddle.

  
  


HEY LOOK!!!! A LINE BREAK


	2. Chapter One: Of Americans, Canadians, and The British.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yea. . . these are going to be updated rapid progress, so that it's all posted before I have class tomorrow T_T. RIP Ollie, my dudes. I guess I've never put much personality in my notes. . . ? So, yeah. You'll be getting to know (younger) me a bit better. Ugh, why, god, why!?

_ 53 years later _

 

Alfred F. Jones was concerned. Which was something new, as lately he hadn’t cared about anyone but himself. The object of his concern was his former mentor, England AKA Arthur Kirkland. Arthur was not paying attention to China’s presentation at all, although that was nothing new, he also wasn’t rising to Francis’ bait. Which was usually impossible for the former empire. Alfred knew he wasn’t the only one concerned about Arthur. He could taste the worry from both Matthew and Francis. The lemon tang left his mouth burning, and he often took drinks of his cola to try to make it go away. The obnoxious Nation looked over to his near invisible older brother. 

 

“You’re concerned about him, too, eh,” Matthew said. He spoke freely, knowing no one but Alfred would notice. Alfred nodded, the lemon taste growing stronger with each notice of Arthur’s distraction. Alfred leaned over to the shorter Nation, and pinched the exposed skin of his wrist.

 

“Ow! What do you want, git,” Arthur whispered furiously. Alfred’s mouth filled with the guilty taste of chocolate.

 

“Sorry. Mattie and I are concerned about you. You seem all spacey today,” Alfred whispered back.

 

“Says the boy who got into a war over the moon…” Arthur griped, crossing his arms. Alfred looked away, blushing furiously with the taste of coffee in his mouth.

 

“Jeez, don’t need to get snappy. I was only trying to help,” Alfred said, leaning back to his chair. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Arthur furiously scribble something onto his notes. The former empire tore the section off and passed it to Alfred.

 

**_I need to speak with you and your brother later. Meet me at my house after the meeting.~ Arthur_ **

 

The note read. Alfred scribbled a barely legible ‘yes’ and passed it back. For the rest of the meeting he and Matthew whispered furiously about what Arthur could want to talk about.

 

WOW! ANOTHER LINE BREAK!!!!

 

Alfred and Matthew looked around Arthur’s house, searching for the rogue Nation. Matthew was in the kitchen, while Alfred  searched the spare bedrooms and study.

 

“Maybe he’s in the basement, eh,” Matthew said, puttering up behind the younger twin. Alfred jumped at the ghost-like appearance.

 

“Waaaah~ Mattie, don’t sneak up on me like that!!!!” Alfred rubbed the back of his head where Matthew smacked him for his exclamation. 

 

“Maybe we should check the basement, eh,” Matthew suggested. Alfred reluctantly puttered after his older brother. Matthew led him down the stairs, following the sound of Arthur’s pacing.

 

“Ah! Boys, good, you’re here,” Arthur said, turning to them with a manic look in his eyes. “ Reformabit corpus et animum . Mutabis ea parvulis et adultis ipsi teneant mentes ! NOW ! ” Arthur yelled before either twin could say anything. The next thing Alfred saw, was black.

 

IS THAT A WILD LINE BREAK I SEE?!

 

Alfred woke up sometime later, staring up at the ceiling of Arthur’s living room. The fireworks of Arthur’s humming exploded in front of his eyes. Turning, he saw that Arthur was doing needle work and singing a song under his breath. Matthew sat at his feet, but it wasn’t the usual Matthew… 

 

“My god, you’re tiny!” Alfred burst out laughing at his brother’s size, but slammed a hand over his mouth as his voice came out a lot more lilting, and higher, than before. Matthew laughed at that. His laugh, though, was suspiciously French sounding. Alfred’s eyes widened as the colours and images matched that of the laugh Matthew had when they were colonies… 

 

“You turned us into colonies!” Alfred pointed accusingly at Arthur. Who set down his needle work and awkwardly cleared his throat.

 

“Yes. I do apologize for ambushing you like that. However, I need your help,” Arthur said, tugging on his ear lobe. 

 

“Wiz what?” Matthew asked, his voice a little lighter colour of blue than Francis’. 

 

“Well. Alfred, you remember that wizard that we met about 50 years ago? Tom Riddle?” Arthur turned to the youngest (and shortest) of the ACE family.

 

“We met him July 2, 1938. Approximately  19416 days, or 2773 weeks and 5 days. Or 53 years and a few days left over…” Alfred trailed off, not used to showing his intelligence.

 

“You act like an idiot, then go and say shit like that…” Arthur shook his head, “You remember him, that’s good. Anyway, I was right.” For the next hour, Arthur explained about Voldemort, Harry Potter and how the young wizard would need protection, and that would be the job of the newly deaged New World Twins.

 

IT IS!!! WOW, I’VE NEVER SEEN ONE OUT OF CAPTIVITY!!!!

 

Alfred had to be dragged kicking and screaming into Diagon Alley. Luckily, Matthew was still taller than his twin. And, for all his strength, Alfred was extremely underweight. He wasn’t the biggest nor healthiest colony back in the day. The ACE family received several strange looks as Alfred cried. 

 

“Alfred! Stop crying, zis instant! I will not be seen in public wiz a cry baby! Man up, or I will leave you ‘ere!” Matthew threw his hands up into the air. Alfred wiped furiously at his tears and peered up at his older brother. Matthew glared down at the younger twin, who sniffled and stood up. Several mothers glared disapprovingly at Matthew, but the French accented boy ignored them. Arthur also glared at the oldest boy.

 

“Matthew! You’re only going to make it worse!” Arthur snapped, pulling Alfred to his feet. Matthew shrugged, pointing out how Alfred was no longer screaming or loudly sobbing, merely wiping at his tears. Arthur sighed.

 

“We need to get you two robes. I’d usually only send one, but Matthew you’re larger than your brother. We’ll be there forever…” Arthur groaned.

 

“I’m sure Alfred wouldn’t mind robes a bit larger zan ‘e needs,” Matthew said, cheerily. Arthur sighed.

 

“Alright. You go get robes, potion supplies and other miscellaneous supplies. We’ll get the books, quills, parchment, ink and pets. What type of pet do you want?” Arthur took Alfred’s hand, to make sure the boy didn’t run off. 

 

“Owl. We will meet at ze wand shop,  oui ?” Matthew called, waving to the other two. Arthur shot him a thumbs up in confirmation.

 

WAIT!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO THAT POOR LINE BREAK?!

 

When the ACE family met back up, everyone’s arms were laden with shopping. Alfred’s cheeks were stained with more red tear stains, and Matthew was humming happily. Arthur looked annoyed and like he had a headache. The former empire led his former colonies to a dusty old wand shop. Alfred read the sign above the door, his mouth spicy with the taste of cinnamon and hot sauce. 

 

“Wow, this dude’s older than you, Iggy…” Alfred breathed. Arthur chuckled mirthlessly.

 

“Yes, I suppose he is.” Arthur led the two inside and had them place the shopping on the floor next to a chair he sat in. Matthew stood next to Arthur, while a man with cloudy eyes measure Alfred and puttered around the shop looking for appropriate wands. The first Alfred waved, self destructed and burned the deaged Nation’s hand. The second flew out of his hand and smacked Matthew. Arthur avoided the third lopping off his head by a few seconds. By the time Alfred tried his fiftieth wand, Arthur and Matthew had been hit fifteen times altogether, there were several burns on Alfred’s hands, and the shop was in disarray. Alfred grinned sheepishly at the shop owner. Who, instead of looking angry, was quite excited. Finally, on the fifty-first wand, red, white and blue fireworks burst out of the wand.

 

“Fifteen inches, apple wood, unicorn tail core, springy. Quite an extraordinary combination, young man. I can’t wait to see what you’ll do with it.” Ollivander commented.

 

NO! DON’T KILL THE POOR WILD LINE BREAK!

 

Matthew’s wand didn’t take nearly as long. He got it on only his thirty-seventh try (12 inches, maple wood, dragon heartstring, sturdy). Since the two had to go to Hogwarts in a few days, they decided to just stay at Arthur’s for the rest of their time as themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Two chapters in a day? I must love you all! I do, though. You guys are awesome.
> 
> Prussia; Not as awesome as me, zough!
> 
> How did you get in here?! I thought I locked the doors! Dammit, did Japan let you in?! Nevermind! Anyway, I always thought Alfred would be a clingy cry baby as a kid, and throw tantrums when he didn’t get his way. I also imagine him to be the kind of kid with no qualms about crying (or being punished) in public,as a parent punishing their child in public in Colonial America was quite common. I saw that Matthew is older, because I count their days as colonies as part of their age. The first Canadian colony was made in 1605 while the first American one was in 1607. Matthew is larger (and better fed) than Alfred because the Canadian colonies were richer and larger than the American ones. When I call Alfred’s voice “lilting” it’s because I support the headcanon that he had a slight British accent as a colony. The same with Matthew’s French accent. Accents will be typed out
> 
> Emotion-Flavour Chart
> 
> Lemon-Worry/Concern
> 
> Cinnamon-Anger/Hatred
> 
> Hot Sauce- Fear/Disdain
> 
> Chocolate-Guilt
> 
> If I missed any emotions/tastes I mentioned, tell me in the reviews. Also, if you were wondering, Matthew has a beautiful barn owl whom he named Grange. Which is, I believe, Barn in French. Correct me if I’m wrong. Alfred has a Ragdoll Cat kitten whom he has named Lellow. It is named after my own old cat. If you want to see the animals, just google image barn owls and/or ragdoll kittens. Those adorable mofos are second only to Devon Rex kittens.


	3. Chapter Three: Of Trains, Living People, and Redheads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have nothing to say this time, other than I'm an idiot and this is terrible writing but people seemed to enjoy it???? So?????? ??????????

Alfred was, once again, dragged kicking and screaming to any place remotely magical. This time, Matthew had sat him on a trolley laden with both of their trunks. Matthew’s owl, Grange, was perched on Alfred’s shoulder and the younger twin’s own cat, Lellow, was cradld in his arms while Arthur directed Matthew to run through a wall. The ACE family ran through together, Matthew and Arthur calm and collected while frightened (and frustrated) tears streamed out of Alfred’s eyes as he screamed at them.

 

“STOP PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, STOP!” Alfred screamed, covering Lellow’s ears so as not to hurt them. He was angry with Matthew, so he couldn’t care less about the Grange. On the other side, some of the wizards and witches chuckled, while others glared at Arthur and Matthew. Arthur and Matthew were a part of the former as opposed to the latter. A family of redheads in particular looked sympathetic. Alfred released Lellow’s ears when he realized he was fine, and wiped at his ters, but they continued to drip. The residual taste of hot sauce still in his mouth. Cheeseburger flavoured amusement soon took over his mouth. Alfred always enjoyed that more, which was why he ate them all the time. The family of redheads walked over, the mother stopped in front of him.

 

“Are you alright, dear?” The mother asked. Alfred nodded pitifully and futily wiped at his tears. “Would you like a hug?” Alfred nodded again and hugged the woman.

 

“Thank you,” Alfred sniffled, looking into the woman’s kind eyes. Cheeseburger was replaced with pumpkin spice.

 

“Of course, love. What’s your name,” The woman asked, “I’m Molly Weasley.”

 

“I’m Alfred F. Jones. It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Weasley,” Alfred introduced, petting Lellow, “This is my older brother Matthew Williams and our dad Arthur Kirkland!” Alfred chirped, the taste now a mixture of pumpkin spice and apple pie that made him want to both gag and eat both items of food. Matthew waved and took Grange off of Alfred’s shoulder. Arthur shook Mrs. and Mr. Weasley’s hands.

 

“I’m sorry if Alfred disturbed you all. He can be dramatic,” Arthur said. Alfred looked away, soggy cereal replacing pumpkin spice and apple pie.

 

“He seemed genuinely scared,” A pair of twins behind Mrs. Weasley said in unison.

 

“‘E’s a bit of a cry baby, eh. Get’s scared too easily. ‘Ee’s clingy too, eh,” Matthew interjected, using the time to make fun of his younger twin. His words were as light blue as ever, but tinged mint green with teasing. Alfred pouted, a metallic taste filling his mouth. 

 

“Boys! No fighting! Onto the train,” Arthur commanded. The twins picked up their luggage (Lellow perched on Alfred’s head) and followed the youngest redhead boy onto the train, the twins before them. The trunks were put in the luggage car, and the New World Twins followed behind the boy looking for a compartment.

 

“I’m Ron, by the way. Since I already know you’re names,” Ron said.

 

“Wanna be friends?” The taste of honey filled Alfred’s mouth after his question.

 

“Sure.” Ron shrugged and opened a compartment door. “Do you mind if we sit with you?” Ron asked the compartment’s lone occupant.

 

“Not at all,” The boy answered. Matthew sat next to Ron, so Alfred took the seat next to the new boy. Kumajiro (who had, for once, been the one forgotten instead of his owner) settled between Matthew’s feet.

 

“I’m Ron. Ron Weasley,” Ron introduced.

 

“Matthew Williams. The cry baby next to you is my little brother Alfred F. Jones,” Matthew introduced. The metallic taste came back.

 

“Oh, I’m Harry. Harry Potter.” The boy-Harry-said, as if he had forgotten that his name was required as well.

 

“Whoa! Do you really- do you really have it?” Ron’s eyes widened.

 

“Have what?” Harry cocked his head.

 

“The scar,” Ron whispered.    
  


“Oh! That. Yeah, I’ve got it!” Harry lifted up his bangs. Alfred’s eyes widened.

 

“Dude! That is so cool! Does it do anything?” Alfred bounced in his seat, popcorn filling his tastebuds. 

 

“Well, no. It’s just a scar,” Harry said.

 

“Well, tell me if it does. How’d you get it, anyway?” Alfred calmed down, popcorn morphing into a blood-like iron taste. Harry shrugged.

 

“You mean you don’t know?” Ron sounded astonished. Alfred and Matthew shook their heads, “That’s where He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named tried to kill him! Harry’s the only one that’s ever lived through the Killing Curse! He’s the Boy Who Lived!”

 

“Wow! That’s so cool, Harry!” Upon noticing Harry’s uncomfort with the subject, Alfred continued, “The only thing I’ve survived is Dad’s cooking! He could set sushi on fire! Actually, he has…” 

 

“Zat’s true. Zat’s why I prefer Papa’s food. At least ‘is food is edible,” Matthew said. Harry and Ron nodded. 

 

“Yeah. Only problem is he smells like old socks!” Alfred jeered, French Toast invading his sense of taste when his new friends laughed.

 

“Or good cheese,” Matthew huffed.

 

“What’s the difference?” The taste of French Toast grew stronger. From there, the conversation turned to school and Alfred grew quiet, looking at the colour of his new friend’s words. Ron’s words were a bright and vivid pastel/neon purple. Harry’s were a bright red, the colour of Ron’s hair. Alfred rather liked the colours, they suited his friends. 

 

AW! THE BABY LINE BREAK IS GROWING UP! SO CUTE!

 

It was after two visits from people looking for a frog (a real one, not Francis) (one was a girl with bright yellow words and one a boy with nervous green words) and a visit from a rude boy and his friends (Ron’s rat bit the ‘friends’ Alfred decided to not let Lellow eat the rat, as much as she wanted to) that they arrived at the castle. Alfred reluctantly climbed into the boat with Matthew, Harry and Ron, clutching Lellow closer to is chest. His first sight of the castle was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen, and it was accompanied by the taste of pancakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emotion-Flavour Chart
> 
> Lemon-Worry/Concern
> 
> Cinnamon-Anger/Hatred
> 
> Hot Sauce- Fear/Disdain
> 
> Chocolate-Guilt
> 
> Cheeseburgers- Amusement
> 
> Pumpkin Spice- Love/Caring
> 
> Apple Pie- Joy/Happiness
> 
> Blood/Iron- Tranquility/Calm
> 
> Sadness- Dirt/Mud
> 
> Strawberry Ice Cream- Curiosity
> 
> French Toast- Pride
> 
> Cooked Asparagus- Jealousy
> 
> Broccoli- Loneliness
> 
> Maraschino Cherries- Serene/Zen
> 
> Cinnamon-Sugar Bites/ Churros- Elation/Glee
> 
> Lipgloss (the girls know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout)- Cute/Sweet
> 
> Maple Syrup- Protective
> 
> Earl Grey with Honey and a Splash of Milk- Heroic
> 
> Wine and Beer- Grateful
> 
> Pancakes- Wonder
> 
> People and the Colour of Their Words
> 
> Matthew- Light blue
> 
> Francis- Darker blue
> 
> Arthur- Pink
> 
> Alfred- Light pink
> 
> Ron- Neon/pastel Purple
> 
> Harry- Bright red
> 
> Hermione- Bright yellow
> 
> Malfoy- Puke Green
> 
> Crabbe and Goyle- Mud brown
> 
> Ivan- Black
> 
> Kiku- Gold
> 
> I don’t think there's anything to really explain in this chapter, but if you need clarification on anything just review or PM me, I’ll be glad to help!


	4. Chapter Three: Of Sortings, Songs, and Scares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ??????????????????????????????????????????????

The first taste on his tongue when Alfred entered the castle, was hot sauce. Ghosts were floating around the hall, and Alfred had taken to whimpering and hiding behind Matthew. Who was laughing alongside Harry and Ron. The strict lady Hagrid had called Professor McGonagall was giving Alfred a sympathetic look when she led them (and the ghosts by association) into the hall. There was a raggedy old hat that Alfred recognized as the Sorting Hat on a rickety stool. There was trepidation filled silence as the whole hall gazed at the hat. It’s “mouth” opened and it burst into song.

 

_ “ _ _ Oh you may not think me pretty, _

_ But don't judge on what you see, _

_ I'll eat myself if you can find _

_ A smarter hat than me. _

 

_ You can keep your bowlers black, _

_ Your top hats sleek and tall, _

_ For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat _

_ And I can cap them all. _

 

_ There's nothing hidden in your head _

_ The Sorting Hat can't see, _

_ So try me on and I will tell you _

_ Where you ought to be. _

 

_ You might belong in Gryffindor, _

_ Where dwell the brave at heart, _

_ Their daring, nerve, and chivalry _

_ Set Gryffindors apart; _

 

_ You might belong in Hufflepuff, _

_ Where they are just and loyal, _

_ Those patient Hufflepuffs are true _

_ And unafraid of toil; _

 

_ Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, _

_ if you've a ready mind, _

_ Where those of wit and learning, _

_ Will always find their kind; _

 

_ Or perhaps in Slytherin _

_ You'll make your real friends, _

_ Those cunning folks use any means _

_ To achieve their ends. _

 

_ So put me on! Don't be afraid! _

_ And don't get in a flap! _

_ You're in safe hands (though I have none) _

_ For I'm a Thinking Cap! _ ” The hall burst into applause as the Hat finished it’s song and bowed. 

 

DINNER TIME IN THE LINE BREAK FAMILY! WONDER HOW THEIR DAYS WENT?!

 

Alfred went to to the sorting hat near the beginning. He wasn’t nervous, though. He’d met the hat before, and had rather liked him. He wondered what house the Sorting Hat would put him in. Would it still be Ravenclaw, or would he have changed? Was he no longer smart enough for Ravenclaw?

 

“ _ Hello, America. It’s been a while, _ ” The Sorting Hat said in Alfred’s mind.

 

“ _ Just Alfred, please, _ ” Alfred responded

 

“ _ Hm, alright. You’re worried you’re not smart enough for Ravenclaw, anymore. You still are, maybe even more so now. But, you’re also a lot raver now. Even if you are still a bit of a scaredy cat, _ ” The Hat teased. Alfred crossed his arms, the taste of pennies filling his mouth.

 

“ _ I’m not a scaredy cat. I’m the hero! _ ” Alfred huffed.

 

“ _ No, of course not. You really are brave. I’d almost say you were the personification of Gryffindor house, nowadays. Going up against Russia like that? Quite, quite impressive. Yes, I know just where you should go. But I want you to choose. Ravenclaw, or Gryffindor? _ ” The Hat peered down at Alfred, who scrunched his face in thought.

 

“ _ My mission is to protect Harry Potter. But if I’m put in Ravenclaw, the only way I’ll be able to do that is if he’s put in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw himself. He doesn’t strike me as the Hufflepuff type and, don’t tell him I said this but… He doesn’t seem intelligent or open-minded enough for Ravenclaw. Yes, put me in Gryffindor. I need to do this mission for Arthur, _ ” Alfred said after thinking it over.

 

“ _ Sigh. If you’re sure, better be…  _ GRYFFINDOR!” The Hat called to the hall. Alfred nicely set the hat on the table and went to join the loudly cheering Gryffindor table. Soon enough, Alfred was joined by Ron and Harry, while Matthew chose to return to his old house of Hufflepuff. Soon, the food came out and Alfred ate as much as he could to keep the taste of blood out of his mouth. He fell off the bench backwards when Sir Nicholas popped out from the middle of the table. He could hear the Slytherins laughing and the taste went from blood to hot sauce to pennies to cinnamon.

 

“Shut up! What gives any of you the right to laugh at someone for their biggest fear! Inbred jerks!” Alfred’s face grew red in anger. 

 

“What did you say, mudblood?” Malfoy had an angry look on his face, and the whole hall grew silent.

 

“Did you just call me a mudblood?” Alfred’s voice was sickly-sweet and his mouth tasted of grape cough syrup.

 

“Yeah, need me to explain it to you, Yank?” Malfoy sneered and Alfred frowned poutingly. He didn’t like it when Malfoy called him Yank. Only Arthur was supposed to do that.

 

“Oh no, I’ve got it. But, here’s the thing. If I ever hear you call me or anyone else in this school such a mean name, I’ll pop a cap in your ass so hard that your grey matter will paint these walls. Capiche?” Alfred’s frown turned into an innocent smile, and Malfoy looked visibly scared. Alfred could taste hot sauce from the boy. Alfred cheerily sat down, making sure to stay away from Sir Nicholas, and the hall soon resumed it’s conversations. Seemingly forgetting about the strange America first year, his threat, and what that innocent smile hid. The teachers and soon to-be Golden Trio, however, did not.

 

“Harry, are you OK? You’re scared, dude,” Alfred a while later.

 

“How could you tell?” Harry asked.

 

“Because it tastes like hot sauce, but no one else is scared.” Alfred flippantly waved a hand.

 

“OK, weird. But, I don’t know, my scar just started hurting,” Harry said, rubbing said scar. Alfred frowned and poked his friend’s forehead.

 

“That shouldn’t be happening. Scars aren’t supposed to hurt, dude. Maybe it’s psychosomatic. You should totally ask the nurse, bro, ‘Cause if your scar’s hurting, that’s a legit concern,” Alfred said, eyes narrowed in worry. Harry nodded in agreement.

 

“If it happens again, I’ll tell her.” Harry looked Alfred in the eye. Alfred held out his pinkie.

 

“Promise me.” Alfred demanded. Harry hooked his pinkie around Alfred’s and the friends shook on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emotion-Flavour Chart
> 
> Lemon-Worry/Concern
> 
> Cinnamon-Anger/Hatred
> 
> Hot Sauce- Fear/Disdain
> 
> Chocolate-Guilt
> 
> Cheeseburgers- Amusement
> 
> Pumpkin Spice- Love/Caring
> 
> Apple Pie- Joy/Happiness
> 
> Blood/Iron- Tranquility/Calm
> 
> Sadness- Dirt/Mud
> 
> Strawberry Ice Cream- Curiosity
> 
> French Toast- Pride
> 
> Cooked Asparagus- Jealousy
> 
> Broccoli- Loneliness
> 
> Maraschino Cherries- Serene/Zen
> 
> Cinnamon-Sugar Bites/ Churros- Elation/Glee
> 
> Lipgloss (the girls know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout)- Cute/Sweet
> 
> Maple Syrup- Protective
> 
> Earl Grey with Honey and a Splash of Milk- Heroic
> 
> Wine and Beer- Grateful
> 
> Pancakes- Wonder
> 
> People and the Colour of Their Words
> 
> Matthew- Light blue
> 
> Francis- Darker blue
> 
> Arthur- Pink
> 
> Alfred- Light pink
> 
> Ron- Neon/pastel Purple
> 
> Harry- Bright red
> 
> Hermione- Bright yellow
> 
> Malfoy- Puke Green
> 
> Crabbe and Goyle- Mud brown
> 
> Ivan- Black
> 
> Kiku- Gold
> 
> Once again, not really anything to explain. But if you want an explanation for anything, feel free to PM me! I really don’t mind!


	5. Chapter Four: Of Potions, Fathers, and Howlers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't like this. However, the general populace seems to - for whatever reason - enjoy this story. It'll be over soon. And then we'll be onto the second one. . . yay. . .

It seemed to be becoming a pattern that Alfred be dragged anywhere. This time, it was Ron and Harry that forced him to follow them. He was half asleep and his robes (that were actually Matthew’s size) were half on. But the colours were bright throughout the castle, and he wanted to get the taste of blood out of his mouth with food. Even if it was English. When they were all seated, owls swooped in through the windows at the front. Harry and Alfred stared in wonder, the taste of pancakes filling Alfred’s mouth. An owl that Alfred remembered having belonged to Arthur, dropped a red envelope in front of him and flew off to Matthew. 

 

“Wow! A Howler on your first day! That’s rotten luck,” Ron said around a mouthful of sausage. Alfred poked at the Howler and it turned into an angry looking face.

“ALFRED FERNANDEZ JONES HOW DARE YOU! THREATENING A FELLOW STUDENT THE VERY NIGHT YOU ARRIVE?! YOU HADN’T EVEN BEEN THERE FOR TWENTY-FOUR HOURS AND I’M ALREADY BEING SENT LETTERS! THE WORST WAS THAT I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF A MEETING AND THEY SENT A HOWLER! DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO EXPLAIN TO THAT LOT WHY A LETTER IS SCREAMING AT YOU THAT YOUR SON THREATENED TO ‘PAINT THE WALLS’ WITH A BOY’S BRAIN! YOU ARE LUCKY I DON’T COME DOWN THERE RIGHT NOW! IF I GET ANY MORE LETTERS ABOUT YOU DOING ANYTHING EVEN REMOTELY IDIOTIC I WILL PERSONALLY LOCK YOU IN A ROOM WITH FIFTY GHOSTS AND THE NAKED FROG, AM I CLEAR?!” Arthur’s voice rang out, “AND THOSE STUPID MACARONI BROTHERS WANT TO SPEAK TO YOU! I THINK THEY’RE PROUD OF YOUR THREATS, BUT I CAN NEVER TELL!” Arthur’s voice softened, “By the way, Matthew, your father and I are very proud of you for getting Hufflepuff. Better than Gryffindor, like the mindless oaf got at any rate. The Frog would also like me to say that he misses you very much and that you’re visiting him over Christmas Break. I… don’t think you have a choice. Alfred,  _ your  _ father is as idiotic as ever and is now covered in turtles. I’m starting to see where you got it from. Anyway~ I need to go. Matthew, be good, love you! Alfred, don’t make them send another letter, don’t hate you. Your uncle may be coming for a visit, so prepare for his idiocy.” Stares all around the hall were fixed on the twins. Matthew was hiding his face in Kumajiro’s fur while Alfred’s mouth was hot with cinnamon and pennies, and his eyes burned with angry tears. 

 

“What did he mean by your father? I thought you two were twins?” Harry swallowed a piece of toast.

 

“Mattie and I are half-brothers. We share a mom. His dad is a Frenchmen named Francis Bonnefoy, while mine is a Spaniard named Antonio Carriedo. Well, we think my dad is Antonio. Though it could be this Swede named Berwald Oxenstierna. Both act like my dad...” Alfred answered, shrugging.

 

“Why don’t you live with your dad, then?” Hermione-the girl from the train- but in.

 

“Antonio has partial custody, and Berwald has visitation rights as both have good claims on paternity. Dad is the cousin of Francis, and mom wanted me to go with Mattie. But Francis didn’t want both of us, so Arthur got stuck with me,” Alfred said, swiftly coming up with a lie.   _ Yeah, Arthur,  _ Alfred thought,  _ I know how hard it is to explain a screaming letter. ‘Cause now I gotta do it, too.  _

 

WOW! IT’S SCIENCE FAIR FOR THE  LINE BREAK FAMILY! BABY LINE BREAKS ARE GONNA WIN!

 

Alfred couldn’t see very much. The dungeon that Potions class was in was dark and the only light came from the glowing words. Alfred jumped as fireworks exploded in his vision at the slamming of a door. A greasy haired man (who for an inexplicable reason reminded Alfred of Norway) dressed all in black swept into the dungeon. Alfred narrowed his eyes as Professor Snape zeroed in on Harry. He started asking all these difficult questions that only he-and Hermione, apparently- would know off the top of their heads. Alfred wanted to say something, but knew he’d get in trouble for it. Cinnamon burned his tongue from his own anger, and that of those around him. He could also taste the coffee frustration from Harry and Hermione. Snape assigned them all to do a potion for boils. At least, that’s what Neville told Alfred, as the Nation wasn’t paying attention.

 

It was some time later, that the cauldron exploded. Apparently, they’d done something wrong because Alfred could hear the cauldron getting ready to blow. Just as it was going to go kablooey, Alfred pushed Neville out of the way and took the brunt of the potion for himself. Neville was only slightly hurt, but Alfred was covered in the stuff. Ron and Harry rushed over, their concern sending a lemon tang into his mouth. Neville was blinking back tears as Snape yelled at him for being reckless.

 

“Someone take Jones to the Hospital Wing!” Snape snapped

 

WHAT DO YOU MEAN BABY LINE BREAKS ONLY GOT SECOND PLACE?! FIGHT ME HELEN!

 

Harry was pacing outside the Hospital Wing when quiet footsteps approached him. He turned to see Alfred’s half-brother walking swiftly towards him with- Is that a polar bear?!

 

“Is ‘e alright? I ‘ave not ‘eard anyzing, ‘ave you?” Matthew looked anxious. 

 

“Madame Pomfrey said he’d have to spend the night in the wing,” Harry said. Matthew nodded.

 

“Per’aps we could see ‘im?” Matthew shuffled his feet awkwardly.

 

“He was asleep last time I checked. We should head to dinner,” Harry answered. Matthew nodded and the two set off for the Great Hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK. It's normal me. You know, the one from the beginning note? Yea. Young Me can't come to the chapter right now. Why? Oh, cause he's dead. Anyway~ Y'all're intelligent creatures. You've got the hang of the emotion chart at this point. From now on, you will no longer be subjected to my younger self's ramblings. Only my current self's ramblings which. . . probably aren't that much better?


	6. Chapter Five: Of Nightmares, Flying Brooms, and Sleepless Ravens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm watching Numb3rs right now and thinking: What could make this fic better? Oh, yea. If it was never written. I keep writing these, but I think my notes are more cringy than the writing. Do people even say cringy in 2017? I don't care.

~~~~ _ In Alfred’s Dream~~~~ _

 

_ Alfred  looked around himself. He stood in the middle of a town. Looking down at his clothes, Alfred realized he was in all black.  There was a white square in his collar and Alfred’s throat grew dry. He remembered this garb, and the things he’d done in it...  There were people all around him, screaming obscenities at a collection of women on a stage. Alfred wanted to push through the group and  tell them  all to stop, that these women were innocent! Instead, his feet calmly walked to the stage. His head was held high, but Alfred was screaming  _ **_No!_ ** _ He screamed mentally,  _ **_No, don’t do it! They’re innocent! All of them!_ ** _ His body ignored everything he was screaming, a Bible cradled to his chest and his blue eyes ice cold. His rose-gold hair was pulled back in a ponytail, a style Alfred hadn’t worn since. Even now that his hair was the appropriate length. Alfred stood on the platform next to the women, who screamed at him and begged him to let them go. Alfred ignored them. _

 

_ “These women have been accused of witchcraft. They have been given a trial and found guilty.  As in the words of The Bible in Daniel 5:27, ‘Tekel; Thou art weighed in the balances, and art found wanting.’ Wanting, of satanic intervention! In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost; I condemn these women to death!”  Alfred yelled. The crowd jeered in approval. And the women were hung, to the music of their screaming children. _

 

_ ~~~~In The Real World~~~~ _

 

Alfred sat up abruptly. His frantic eyes looked around the darkened hospital room, a thin scream of protest on his lips. He burst into tears as he realized it was nothing but a dream. He hated this! This… this stupid magic! His people hated it back then and he killed innocent people because of it! His people killed innocents because of it! He hated magic! Alfred stood from the bed, the abrupt change causing the world to spin for a second. He glared at the potion Madame Pomfrey had set next to his bed. Alfred picked up the cup and threw it across the room and through a window. The window shattered and showered the floor in glass. Alfred screamed again, in fear and anger and frustration.  __ Madame Pomfrey came running into the Hospital Wing and up to Alfred, who didn’t acknowledge her presence, only continued to scream with tears falling down his face. Eventually, Alfred’s voice ran out and his screams became silent the tears continued however. Upon seeing his distress, Madame Pomfrey swept the Nation into a hug and sat on the bed. There the two remained for the rest of the night, with a silent Alfred praying for forgiveness and a loving matron wanting nothing more than the best for her patient.

 

THE BABY LINE BREAKS ARE TAKING OVER THE WORLD! I’M SO PROUD!

 

Alfred was near exhausted when he made his way down to breakfast. Madame Pomfrey had released him with one last hug, saying that if he should need anything, he had but come to her and she would do all she could. Harry and Ron looked up as he sat down next to him. Across the table and a little down, Neville hung onto every word Hermione was reading from a book about flying. Alfred perked up considerably. He loved flying of all kinds, after all, two of his people invented it in their backyard. 

 

“The Ravenclaws look rather tired today, don’t they?” Ron nodded at said table. A passing Ravenclaw stopped.

 

“Our dorms are right near the Hospital Wing. Somebody in there was screaming and sobbing all last night. It made it hard to get to sleep,” The Ravenclaw said. Copper embarrassment filled Alfred’s mouth. 

 

“Really? Hopefully it doesn’t happen again tonight,” Harry said, smiling sympathetically at the girl. Who smiled back, considerably brighter than before and skipped off.

 

“Alfred, you look embarrassed. Almost as if…” Ron grinned as the realization hit him, “It was you, wasn’t it?! You were the one screaming and crying last night!”

 

“Sh-shut up! Heroes don’t cry!” Alfred hissed, furiously stabbing his sausage with a fork. Harry and Ron burst out laughing at their friend’s expense.

 

“What’s so funny,” Matthew asked, sitting down next to Alfred.

 

“Alfred was the one crying in the Hospital Wing last night,” Harry gasped between laughs. The taste of pennies grew stronger.

 

“Hey, it’s alright Al. You woke up in a strange place, I don’t blame you,” Despite his words, Alfred could taste the cheeseburger amusement. Alfred huffed and turned away as his brother joined in the laughter but, upon realizing how ridiculous he was acting, joined in too.

 

HA HA! THAT’S WHAT YOU GET FOR BEING MEAN TO MY BABY LINE BREAKS, HELEN!

 

Alfred stood outside on the lawn with a group of Slytherins and Gryffindors. Already, he held his broom in his hand though some were still struggling with getting theirs to come to them. By the time everyone had theirs, it seemed like half the lesson had gone by. Alfred grumbled about how Hermione and Neville took forever to get their brooms.

 

“It’s hard for some people, don’t be rude just ‘cause you got it the first try,” Hermione said, sniffing at the American.

 

“It really isn’t. All you had to do was say ‘up’ and mean it. The brooms are like horses, they can sense when you’re afraid,” Alfred said back, mounting his broom just as Madame Hooch had commanded.

 

“Horses can’t sense when you’re afraid, don’t be stupid,” Hermione said, following Alfred’s example.

 

“Yes, they can. I own horses, spent most of my life with them. All three of my guardians have some they let me take care of,” Alfred said, watching as Neville rose before he was supposed to. The boy’s broom went haywire and slammed him against one of the torch’s on the castle wall. Neville’s robes caught on the torch and when the broom flew away, Neville didn’t go with it. 

 

“Someone do something, he’s going to fall!” Hermione shrieked. Alfred kicked off from the ground and easily flew to where Neville was.

 

“Alfred?” Neville sounded shocked.

 

“Ayo, Toad Boy,” Alfred said, grinning.

 

“I-I don’t want you to get in trouble with that guy from the Howler…” Neville sounded pitiful and hot sauce flooded Alfred’s taste buds from the boy.

 

“Don’t worry about it, I can handle Artie. Grab my hand,” Alfred commanded, holding out his hand. Neville grabbed it with both of his and clung on tightly. Alfred kept the broom steady between his legs and reached out his other hand. Madame Hooch screamed at him to stop, several of the students covered their eyes and Alfred thought;  _ It’s just like a horse. Stay calm and the horse will as well. Just  get him down safely. _ However, Neville was heavier than Alfred had anticipated, and when he ripped Neville’s robe to get him free, Neville’s weight dragged them both down. Alfred accidentally kicked the broom out of between his legs and away. The Nation’s eyes widened and he pulled Neville flush to his body, forcebly turning them so his back would hit the ground. Hopefully, Neville would only have minor injuries, while Alfred took the brunt of the impact. Alfred followed Neville’s example and closed his eyes.

 

WAIT, BABY LINE BREAKS! DON’T KILL HER! NOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

Harry watched in horror as Alfred and Neville fell. It seemed time slowed down and the class was frozen. The spell was broken when someone screamed as Alfred’s back slammed onto the ground. The group swarmed the two as they lie there. Neville was whimpering and clutched the front of Alfred’s robes like a frightened baby would their parent. The smaller boy… Harry heard another scream as they realized that Alfred was unconscious. 

 

“Is he dead…?” Someone whispered. Maybe it was the person that had screamed, but Alfred couldn’t tell. Madame Hooch pulled Neville gently to his feet and levitated Alfred’s corp- body. He wasn’t dead, Harry reassured himself, as he saw Alfred’s chest rise and fall. The class let out a simultaneous sigh of relief. Madame Hooch took them both to the Hospital Wing. Malfoy pushed his way forward and picked something up. Harry recognized it as the Remembrall Neville had received this morning. 

 

“Give that here, Malfoy,” Harry said in as commanding a voice as he could muster. Malfoy smirked.

 

“You want it, Potter?” Malfoy’s smirk increased as Harry held his hand out for the Remembrall, “You know, I’m surprised that your friend isn’t dead. Not that he doesn’t deserve it, after the way he spoke to me at the Feast. Filthy mudblood.” Malfoy spat.

 

“Don’t say a word against Alfred!” Ron stepped up next to Harry. Malfoy rose into the air onto his broom. 

 

“If you want it, Potter, come get it,” Malfoy said. Harry also rose on his broom until he was at the same level as the blond. Malfoy threw the Remembrall and Harry chased after it, just barely catching the small ball in his fingertips. As he landed, Harry saw a stoic figure in emerald green approach the group. The Gryffindors stopped cheering as McGonagall stared sternly at Harry.

 

“Potter, come with me. Now,” McGonagall said, a hint of something other than disapproval in her voice. Harry followed.

 

That night, Harry eagerly told Alfred and Ron about how McGonagall had appointed him as the new Gryffindor Seeker. Alfred was still in the Hospital Wing, and he seemed quite happy with the news. Proclaiming that if it wasn’t for his heroism Harry wouldn't have the position. Harry chuckled, but secretly couldn’t help but agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoooooooo congrats. My younger self's offer still stands, if you're confused about anything feel free to make a comment or whatever, and I'll explain.


	7. Chapter Six: Of Midnight Fights, Uncles, and Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy, I guess.

At dinner, after Harry and Ron had visited Alfred (whom Madame Pomfrey refused to let out) Harry was eagerly telling Fred and George about his new appointment on the team. The twins were excited and excitedly chatted to Harry about it. Meanwhile, Ron and Matthew talked about whatever, but the blond seemed too concerned about his his brother to be paying attention. Suddenly, both conversations were interrupted by Malfoy, who Matthew glared at profusely. 

 

“Last meal before you leave for the muggles, Potter?” Malfoy sneered.

 

“Lot braver now that your friends are here and you’re back on the ground,” Harry said coolly. Matthew kept glaring at Malfoy, looking like he wanted to kill the boy.

 

“I’d take you on on my own anytime, Potter.” Malfoy crossed his arms, “Tonight, even. If you’d like. Wizards duel. All wand- No contact.” Even if he had only known him for a short time, Harry was sure Alfred’ve made a lewd joke about that last comment that Ron wouldn’tve understood. 

 

“Alright. I’m his second. Who’s yours,” Ron asked before Harry could answer.

 

“Crabbe. The Trophy Room is always unlocked, so we’ll meet you there at midnight,” Malfoy said, walking away.

 

“Alfred’ll be angry ‘e missed this. I’m going, too, to tell ‘im aboot it,” Matthew said, looking both concerned and excited. In all honesty, Harry had forgotten the older Jones-Williams brother was even there. 

 

“Oh, yeah, OK. What’s a second,” Harry asked.

 

“It’s in case you die. But don’t worry. The most you and Malfoy can do is shoot sparks at each other,” Ron explained. Suddenly, the doors to the Great Hall banged open and four men stood there.

 

“Now hoo t’e bloody ‘ell t’ried ta kill me nephew?!” The redhaired man in front stomped into the hall, the other three looking just as angry.

 

“Alistair, calm down. I’m sure it wasn’t on purpose,” A soft looking brunet with a sing-song voice said.

 

“Uncle Alistair?” Matthew stood up.

 

“Matthew! Where’s yer bruther? Ah heard he ahlmos’ killed ‘imself,” The red haired one that Matthew called Alistair asked, bouncing over to the boy.

 

“‘Ospital Wing, Uncle Alistair. ‘E fell. Why are you ‘ere, Uncle Owain?” Matthew hugged his apparent uncles.

 

“Seamus and Lachlan said they had a bad feeling about you two. We wanted to check on you,” The one with the sing-song voice, Owain, explained.

 

“Yeah! Turns out we were right! Stupid Gryffindors…” The two others, Seamus and Lachlan, said in unison.

 

“Oi! I was Gryff’dor, ya idgits! Ain’t not’ing wron’ wit our house! Though Ravenclaw woulda fit ‘im be’er,” Alistair exclaimed.

 

“Of course not, Alistair, every house is equal. Why don’t we go visit Alfred? You like Alfred, don’t you?” Owain gently led the other out of the hall.

 

“Hm. Alli seems angry. We have to go, gotta visit Alfred. Are you alright though? You must be worried sick,” Seamus and Lachlan said, again, in unison.

 

“I’m alright. Go worry aboot Al. ‘E wants to get out of zere, and I’m sure ‘e’s lonely,” Matthew hugged the two and they sped off after the others.

 

“Who are they,” Harry asked.

 

“Uncle Alistair, Uncle Owain and Uncle Seamus and Lachlan. They’re Arthur’s older brothers,” Matthew explained, sighing as he looked out the doors. 

 

EVERYONE… EVERYONE’S DEAD! OH MY GOD!

 

Alfred smiled at his uncles as they crowded around his hospital bed. Lachlan and Seamus were chattering on about something, their words as salmon pink as ever. Owain was reading, slowly rubbing circles in Alfred’s palm with his thumb. Alistair was speaking to Madame Pomfrey. Alfred smiled at his redheaded uncle’s words of the same colour as his hair.

 

“Heard yer sense got ya all o’erloaded,” Alistair said, taking a seat next to Alfred’s side and near Owain. Alfred nodded.

 

“Yep! I saved a dude, so at least I woulda died the hero,” Alfred answered, slightly nudging his hand when Owain stopped his movements. The Welshman smiled and started moving his thumb in circles again, calming the American. 

 

“Ya got yerself one o’ the mightiest hero complexes I have e’er heard of, boy. You’re lucky ya hadn’t died,” Alistair growled playfully. Alfred grinned and ducked his head as Seamus and Lachlan mussed his hair.

 

“Yeah, yeah. Look though, obviously you’re not just here because you heard about my accident. Why are you here,” Alfred asked, adjusting himself on the bed. 

 

“Erm, well. Yeah, that’s true. We wanted to check up on you two. See if you were safe,” Seamus and Lachlan said, rubbing the backs of their heads. Owain’s eyes widened and he smacked their arms.

 

“Seamus! Lachlan! Don’t tell him, he doesn’t need to worry,” Owain admonished. Alfred knit his brows together.

 

“Tell me? Tell me what?” Alfred pushed himself up into a fully sitting position. Alistair looked to Owain, who glared.

 

“T’e Nyos are gettin’ uneasy,” Alistair said simply.

 

“The Nyos? Are they alright? Are any hurt,” Alfred asked quickly. 

 

“No, but Melia keeps saying she feels like someone’s following her,” Owain reassured the American, pressing a hand lightly to his chest.

 

“That does make sense, she is the weakest. Physically, at least. What about the others,” Alfred asked, nodding.

 

“Most jus’ ignore it. It ain’t t’at much o’ a probl’m. Maddie and Sakura swear the same thing, as does Nikolai,” Alistair answered. 

 

“Is there a threat to Mel? Or any of the others,” Alfred asked, starting to panic slightly. 

 

“No, no. Not at all. Least of all to Melia. You know how protective everyone is of her, especially Oliver and the Second Players,” Owain reassured him. Alfred nodded and lay back down, content to sleep with the knowledge that his “sister” was safe in the hands of a group of psychopaths. 

 

I COULDN’T STOP THEM! I TRIED, BUT THEY WOULDN’T STOP! DEAR GOD WHY?!

 

Matthew followed silently along behind Harry, Ron, Hermione and a stray they’d picked up. Matthew couldn’t remember the boy’s name, just that he was the one Alfred was trying to save that afternoon. Which made Matthew slightly bitter towards him, but not by too much. The kid seemed sweet enough, so the Canadian had no problem with him tagging along. Though his thoughts were currently occupied by his uncles, who had looked worried as much as they tried to hide it. 

 

“We’re here. Where’s Malfoy,” Harry asked no one in particular. Matthew looked around the room and hugged Kumakiwi (or was it Kumakilo?) closer to his chest. Harry was right, they were the only ones there. Malfoy was nowhere to be seen.

 

“Maybe ‘e is just late,  _ oui _ ? After all, it is a big castle. ‘E could ‘ave just gotten lost.” Someone was heard shouting about students being out of bed and Harry took off running, the others behind him. “Or per’aps it was all a set up for us.” Matthew ran off after the others, being careful not to trip in the dark as they turned corners and followed odd twists. Eventually, they ended up at a door. 

 

“It’s locked,” Ron said. Matthew was about to suggest picking the lock when Hermione pushed her way through and pointed her wand at the lock.

 

“Alohomora!” The spell worked immediately, and just in time as the group managed to get into the room before Filch caught them. Of course, Matthew’s peace of mind had to be shattered by Kumacheerio growling at something. The collection of five screamed at the three headed dog before them.

 

Later, after he was safely back in his dorm, Matthew smiled at Kumamatata. 

 

“Did you see what that thing was standing on,” Kumacolorado asked, his squeaky voice lowered so he wouldn't wake up the other in the dorm.

 

“ _ Oui _ , a trap door. ‘Ooo would need a dog like zat to guard somezing in a school,” Matthew asked. Kumalakoto shrugged his tiny bear shoulders.

 

“Who knows, maybe we should find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congrats for making it to the end of the chapter. Hope you don't drink bleach by the time the story is done.


	8. Chapter Seven: Of Plots, Thoughts, and Dark Lords

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❁❀✾✿❃✽✤❋✣❊

_ With Quirrell _

 

Quirrel sat in his room, nervously anticipating when his master would speak. He knew his master had something to say. What, though, was unknown.  But not for long. His master always made Quirrel cover his ears when his master was talking to his followers.

 

“Quirrel,” His master said. Quirrel immediately unwrapped his turban revealing his master; Lord Voldemort.

 

“My lord,” Quirrell said reverently. Voldemort took in a breath.

 

“You wish to know of my plans,” Voldemort said. It wasn’t a question, it was a clear statement. 

 

“Very much so, master,” Quirrell said, his voice trembling in antici...pation. 

 

“There is a race of people that are completely immortal. But there are different subdivisions. They never die, they never reproduce. It is the same one hundred ninety-six people, with different versions of themselves,” Voldemort explained. Quirrell’s eyes widened. “I have disciples currently following four of the weakest. Two of which, are related to two of your students.”

 

“Which ones,” Quirrell asked, breathless from his newfound knowledge. 

 

“Fool! If I knew which they were, I wouldn’t be going after their counterparts! All I know is that they are American and Canadian, as their counterparts are,” Voldemort said, seemingly frustrated. 

 

“I don’t believe we have any American or Canadian students, but I can check,” Quirrell said, not wanting to be subjected to his master’s rage. Voldemort growled.

 

“That is not true. I know they are here, I can feel their auras. Find them!” Voldemort used his magic to rewrap Quirrell’s turban, leaving the trembling professor alone.

 

WELP. I’VE DIED. I AM NOW A GHOST. HOWEVER WILL I GET AMERICA TO LOVE ME LIKE THIS?!

 

_ With Amelia _

 

Amelia had been having a strange feeling for weeks, now. Ever since Alfie and Mattie had gone off on that thing for Iggy, she’d been feeling like she was being followed. She wasn’t the only one, Nikolai, Sakura and Maddie felt it too. Currently, Amelia was lying on her couch wearing Alfred’s pajamas, mainly because she had forgotten to do laundry. And Allan didn’t know how to work the machine. 

 

“Hello poppet,” A cheerful, British voice called out. Amelia turned her head and looked at Oliver.  

 

“Hey, Ollie. How are you doing,” Amelia asked. Oliver wrinkled his nose up at Amelia’s state of dress.

 

“Better than you, cupcake. You look like you haven’t left the house in a few days,” Oliver said, sitting down on the couch.

 

“I haven’t,” Amelia grunted. Oliver gasped.

 

“Poppet, that’s no good!” Oliver tugged on her arm, trying to pull her towards the door. “We’re going on a walk.”

 

“Oliver, no. I feel like someone’s following me. It’s creepy,” Amelia whined, falling on the floor as Oliver dragged her.

 

“Melia, no offense, but you hang out with psychopaths. I don’t think someone following you is really that creepy,” Allan said, walking into the living room. Amelia groaned.

 

“I don’t wanna go outside…” Amelia dug her nails into the carpet.

 

“Amelia. Come on. Get dressed.” Oliver put his hands on his hips. Amelia groans, but drags herself upstairs to change. 

 

Amelia found herself walking through Central Park, Oliver by her side. The pinkette was leading her around by the arm, though she wasn’t happy about it. She wasn’t in her usual clothes, opting to instead just wears jeans and a crop top. Even her jacket was at home. Meanwhile, Oliver stood out more than ever with his vibrant pinks and blues. 

 

“What are we doing here,” Amelia groaned. Oliver stopped humming whatever it was he was humming (it sounded suspiciously like a Disney song) and turned to her.

 

“We’re meeting your friends,” Oliver said, leading on. Amelia groaned again.

 

“Why would they be in a park,” Amelia asked.

 

“Because you’re not the only one that feels like you’re being followed. Nikolai thinks someone may be after us all, so we’re meeting up to discuss what to do.” Amelia turned towards Sakura, who bowed at her friend. 

 

“Really? Who would be after us. If they wanted to target the Nations, you’d think they’d go after the Originals,” Amelia said, walking over to Sakura. Sakura peered up at her.

 

“Yes, one would think so,” Sakura said, nodding.

 

“Probably can’t find the Originals. They’re a lot heavier protected than us, aren’t they?” Nikolai walked up behind Sakura, Maddie trailing behind him. Amelia bounced over to her sister, not noticing how Maddie and Oliver were glaring at each other. She hugged Nikolai after, making the Belarusian uncomfortable. 

 

“Who would want to, though? It’s not like our existence is known to the general public,” Maddie said, hugging Kumarie. 

 

“Could be an extremist group.” Sakura shrugged. The four turned as Oliver laughed knowingly. Amelia narrowed her eyes.

 

“Oliver,” She said carefully, “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about this, would you?” Oliver stopped laughing.

 

“Well, it is an extremist group of sorts. They’re a bunch of wizards that want to revive their master. It’s possible that they heard about our immortality and want to use it to make their master immortal,” Oliver explained in a rare moment of seriousness. 

 

“Our immortality can’t be shared. All of us know that,” Maddie said. Nikolai made an apprehensive noise in his throat. The North Americans turned to him. 

 

“What?” Amelia scrunched her eyebrows.

 

“Well, we can. See, every Nation (that includes us) can choose one thing to keep immortal with them. Most choose their pets, but humans can be chosen as well,” Nikolai explained, “Big Sister hasn’t chosen anything yet…”

 

“But, if we have to choose… how will that help this dude,” Amelia asked.

 

“He could, technically, torture us until one of us agrees to choose him,” Nikolai answered, “Of course, that would only work for one’s who haven’t chosen. You two didn’t even know about it, and I haven’t chosen anyone.” The trio turned to Sakura. Who blushed. 

 

“He was dying! I needed to save him,” Sakura defended.

 

“Save who, Sakura,” Amelia asked.

 

“Pochi!” Sakura threw herself into Amelia’s arms. Amelia hugged her friend, but stared at her in wonder. 

 

“You saved you and Kiku’s dog…?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: Amelia is more likable than Alfred because she isn't a whining bitch who hogs attention in a pathetic attempt at hiding her insecurities.


	9. Chapter Eight: Of Trolls, Halloween, and Cupcakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ง •̀ω•́)ง✧

It had been a few weeks since Alfred had been released from the Hospital Wing, and school had mostly became normal. There was an easy routine between classes and weekends, but Halloween was coming up. Halloween was easily Alfred’s favourite holiday, though it didn’t seem like it would be half as much fun this year. Arthur was working, and with classes, Alfred wouldn’t be able to go to him. It would seem that, since the first time it started as a colony, Alfred and Arthur wouldn’t be able to do their game. Which was a shame, as Alfred had learned plenty of spells with which he could scare Arthur. Or he could’ve just asked Ivan again. Harry and Ron seemed to notice his disheartened attitude as, after Charms, they turned to him.

 

“Why do you seem so sad, Al,” Ron asked. Alfred wrinkled his nose at the lemon taste in his mouth. At least it was better than the taste of scone disappointment.

 

“It’s just, usually me and Arthur have a game. We’ve played it forever, since I was really little. We try to scare the other, whoever gets scared worse is the loser. Usually I lose, but a friend helped me win a few years ago. I thought I might b able to win with all the magic that I’ve learned,” Alfred explained, feebly attempting to fix his tie, “Anyway, how about how Hermione kept correcting Ron?” 

 

“Right? It’s LeviOsa not Leviosa,” Ron said. “God, she’s a  _ nightmare _ . No wonder she hasn’t got any friends.” Someone pushed their way through the group as they all laughed. Hermione looked to be crying as she ran off. 

 

“I think she heard you, Ron,” Harry commented.

 

“Well, it’s true. You must’ve noticed she’s always alone,” Alfred said, shrugging. 

 

“You shouldn’t be so rude, frere. You’re a ‘ero,  _ oui _ ,” Matthew said. Alfred jumped, not having been aware that his brother was there. 

 

“I guess, yeah. Sorry,” Alfred responded, slinging his arm around Matthew’s shoulders.

 

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to. Besides, we should get going to the Great Hall. There’s gonna be a feast,” Matthew said, putting his arm around Alfred’s shoulders. Harry and Ron laughed at the brothers, but followed as Alfred skipped along with Matthew. 

 

Alfred’s eyes filled with wonder at all the candy before him, his mouth flooded with the taste of pancakes. Matthew also looked shocked.

 

“I have never seen so many sweets in my life…” Alfred whispered. Matthew snorted.

 

“Zat says a lot, coming from you,” Matthew said, smirking. 

 

“Well. Aside from anything else, that’s just rude.” Alfred pouted. Matthew ruffled his hair.

 

“ _ Oui _ ,  _ oui _ , go catch up wiz ‘Arry and Ron. We are attracting stares standing ‘ere like imbeciles.” Matthew walked off to the Hufflepuff table and Alfred skipped off to Harry and Ron, who looked amused at his sense of wonder. Cheeseburgers and Pancakes were not something Alfred ever needed to taste at the same time. Harry smiled at Alfred as the American looked reverently at the candy. 

 

“This stuff is amazing. None of the people I know have cooking this good,” Alfred said, smiling at everything.

 

“Really? Hogwart’s food is nothing on mom’s,” Ron said, swallowing his bite of food.

 

“Yeah. Dad’s food creates horrific things. Antonio’s is alright, but not really my taste. I prefer Mexican food over Spanish. And Berwald’s cooking… isn’t covered by any insurance,” Alfred explained, laughing. Harry grinned and Ron smiled again. The taste of blood flooded Alfred’s senses at the calm, content atmosphere. That atmosphere, was shattered by Quirrell running into the hall and screaming about trolls. Alfred quickly followed Harry and Ron when they realized Hermione was in danger. He snagged Matthew by the collar and dragged the shy Canadian with them. They were all feeling rather good, except when they heard a scream from the bathroom. Ron fumbled with the locked and Alfred sighed.

 

“Stand back.” Ron immediately moved and Alfred pulled his leg up. In a move that Kiku had taught him years ago, Alfred spun and kicked the door in, slamming it into the leg of the troll, who immediately turned to them. “So, uh, not my best idea. But it was a good kick, at least.” Hermione screamed again, hot sauce and popcorn flooded Alfred’s mouth. Harry, Ron and Matthew ran in after them. Alfred pulled the hem of his gloves down firmly and faced the angry troll. Hermione screamed again when Alfred ducked a swing from the troll. Alfred turned to her.

 

“Can you shut up? You screaming every five seconds isn’t going to help us.” Alfred was too busy glaring to dodge the second swing. He gripped the club tightly as the troll shook it, in an attempt to knock him off. Matthew set Kumajiro down, whom immediately bit the troll on it’s foot. The poor polar bear soon released the troll and went to go drink water and get the taste out of it’s mouth. Alfred accidentally let go of the club and fell next to his brother. Matthew looked down at his little brother and sighed.

 

“You good,” Matthew asked. Alfred immediately popped back up.

 

“Yep! Harry, Ron, little help?” Alfred jumped on top of the troll’s head and smashed his fists into the top of it. Harry followed his example and jumped on the troll’s back, accidentally ramming his wand up the creature’s nose. “Lukas won’t be happy about that!”

 

“Ron,” Harry called, “Do something!”

 

“What,” Ron yelled back.

 

“Anything!” Harry clung tighter, so as not to fall off. Ron raised his wand.

 

“Swish and flick!” Alfred glared at Hermione, unimpressed. 

 

“Wingardium Leviosa!” Ron, surprisingly, managed to perform the spell perfectly and lifted the club up, though he was quickly losing control.

 

“Harry, grab your wand and go!” Harry did as Alfred commanded as the blonde jumped on the club and managed to force it over the troll’s head. “Ron, release the spell!” Ron did as ordered and both Alfred and the club fell straight on the troll’s head, knocking the poor creature out. Alfred popped up and clapped his hands together, brushing dust off his black gloves.

 

“Welp. That was tedious,” Alfred said just as a collection of teachers ran in. 

 

“What. Happened. Here,” McGonagall demanded. Everyone stumbled over their words, except Matthew who just melted into the background and disappeared.

 

“It was my fault, professor.” Hermione stepped up, “I thought I could handle the troll. See, I’ve read all about them. If Harry, Ron, Alfred and Matthew hadn’t come along… I could’ve died.” 

 

GHOST LINE BREAKS ARE SO NICE! THOUGH BABY LINE BREAKS ARE STILL BEING WEIRD

 

When Alfred arrived at his bed after the whole troll incident, he was dead tired. Which, of course, meant that something had to keep him from sleeping. This time, it was a cupcake with two very telling colours; bubblegum pink and cotton candy blue. Alfred sighed at the message from Oliver. Naturally, the actual letter was underneath the poisonous cupcake. It read; 

 

_ Dearest Alfred,  _

 

_ Recently, so truths have come to light.  My comrades and I (comrades in question being Amelia F.M. Jones, Maddie Williams, Sakura Honda and Nikolai Arlovskaya)  believe we have come to the conclusion of why they are being followed, and by whom. You, of course, know of the fact that all Nations (originals and subdivisions) may choose one creature to be kept immortal with them. I assume you have not forgotten, as your alien friend was able to mimic the process several times over for you. We believe that those who have been followed are being followed for this precise reason. We believe that the remaining free Death Eaters (you, of course, know what those are) are following in order to capture them so that they may use this ability on their master. In addition, we also believe that there is a spy for the Dark Lord in Hogwarts and is after you and your brother. We are not aware of whom this spy may be, but we urge you to be careful. On a less serious note, Allan and Amelia have done a wonderful job running you country, as have Maddie and Max for Matthew. Insufferable as the girl is, she is very good at politics. Sakura and Nikolai are well, as are their 2ps and Originals. Though Kiku seems to be missing you greatly. In fact, we all do. _

 

_ Your’s Truly, Oliver Kirkland. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: Only Oliver is as much of a pretentious prick to write in the center of the page. Another Fun Fact: I did not choose my name because of Oliver. He was a footnote. I chose it after Oliver Twist (fight me)


	10. Chapter Nine: Of Second Players, Short Skirts, and High Heels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (∥￣■￣∥)

Harry observed as, for the second time that year, the great hall doors banged open and four unknown people stormed in. The one in lead was a very attractive blonde woman in a short skirt, who seemed to be cheerful just to be alive. The next was someone that looked an awful lot like Alfred, but darker. His glasses were tinted, his hair was reddish-brown and his face was covered in piercings. When he grinned at the woman, he revealed a missing tooth. The other two were rather short, compared to the man. With auburn hair and closed eyes, and dark brown hair and hazel eyes. Alfred immediately rushed over and hugged the woman around the waist, burying his face in her bare stomach. The woman laughed and leant down, hugging him as well.

 

“I seem to have forgotten how short you are,” The woman said, laughing what sounded like music.

 

“I’m not short. I’m fun sized,” Alfred responded.  _ No,  _ Harry thought,  _ Pretty sure you’re just short.  _ Alfred released the woman and hugged the man.

 

“Oi! Get off me, Golden Boy! Mel, help,” The man cried, trying to push Alfred away. The woman was too busy glaring at Matthew to help the man.

 

“Matthew,” The woman said, voice frosty.

 

“Amelia,” Matthew responded, his voice just as cold. 

 

“Allan! Stop moving,” Alfred cried, hugging the man-Allan-harder. Allan sighed and hugged the boy back. Alfred released the other and turned to the two last ones. “Hi!” The taller of the two-the one with closed eyes- hugged Alfred and spun him around.

 

“Ve~ We’a came to’a congratulate’a you for’a your threats on’a the first’a day,” He said, spinning Alfred around, “Oh, and look fratello, you’re finally taller than someone!”

 

“Chigi~ Shut up, fratello bastardo. I’m taller than plenty of people,” The other snapped.

 

“Um, no offense Lovino but… I can only think of one person you may be taller than,” Alfred said.

 

“Ve~ Really? Who,” The first one asked, still hugging Alfred.

 

“Raivis! I mean, he’s only four feet seven inches,” Alfred said cheerily, attempting to get out of the man’s arms. Amelia was too busy glaring at Matthew and Allan was too busy trying to get her to stop.

 

“Ve~ I guess he would be taller than Raivis…” The first man trailed off.

 

“Yeah, uh, Feliciano? Would you mind, erm, letting go of me,” Alfred responded. 

 

“Ve~ No, you’re warm. Take your glasses off.” The small Italian snuggled into Alfred’s shoulder, which made the blonde physically recoil. Harry and Ron laughed at their friend’s predicament.

 

“No! The glasses stay on. I am never taking them off around you. Ever again,” Alfred shrieked. The Italian-Feliciano-pouted and reached for Alfred’s glasses, only to be stopped by a spiked bat.

 

“First of all, no one touches what’s  _ mine _ . Second of all, he is eleven years old, Feliciano. Touch him, and I will lock you in a room with Luciano. Third, you two were just here to tell him something. Something that isn’t as important as what Amelia and I have to say. As such, get lost Maceroni,” Allan said, lowering the bat. Feliciano nodded, letting go of Alfred.

 

“We’ll be in the car,” The other Italian said, dragging his-presumably-brother away. Allan nodded and slung Alfred over his shoulder. Amelia sent one last glare at Matthew and followed the other two. The last thing Harry heard from the trio was Alfred shouting, 

 

“Put me down, you psychopath! I can walk on my own!”

 

THE TEACHERS SHALL ALL PAY DEARLY FOR THEIR CRIMES!

 

Alfred glared as Allan set him on a banister some ways away from the Great Hall.

 

“What,” The blonde snapped.

 

“Oliver made us all protection charms, he wants you to wear them so you can hide your auras. Amelia already did Matthew’s, when they were glaring at each other,” The Second Player explained. Alfred furrowed his eyebrows and cocked his head.

 

“Basically, Oliver taught us to do a thing where we carve stuff into your chest with our eyes so that your aura is hidden,” Amelia chirped, smoothing down her pleated skirt. Alfred’s eyes widened.

 

“Does it hurt,” Alfred asked. Amelia seemed to debate that with herself. 

 

“It’s more of a tickle,” Allan said. Of course, what Alfred then felt was anything but a tickle. Which meant he had to get revenge somehow. Which was how Amelia ended up with a broken heel and Allan lost one of his eyebrow piercings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh congrats? IDK. This is a lot more convoluted than I remember writing. T_T


	11. Chapter Ten: Of Nicholas Flamel, Dragons, and Alfred's New Fascination With Peppermint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ༼♥ل͜♥༽

It had been a few days since Amelia and Allan had shown up at Hogwarts and then disappeared. Alfred had told Matthew about the protection the two had given them, and the brother’s had in turn explained to Harry, Ron and Hermione about who they were. Not really, as the trio couldn’t be told that Allan and Amelia-and Matthew and Alfred- were Nations. In that space of time, everyone became aware of just how strangely Neville was acting towards Alfred.

 

“It’s almost as if ‘e ‘as a crush on you,” Matthew commented one day in the library. Hermione nodded in agreement. Alfred laughed and waved his hand.

 

“That’s totally not it, dude. If anything, it’s that he has a Damsel in Distress complex,” Alfred said flippantly. Ron cocked his head.

 

“What’s that,” Ron asked. Matthew sighed, secretly hoping it wasn’t anything like Alfred’s hero complex.

 

“It’s something that can happen when a person nearly dies, but get’s saved. See, it’s not that Neville has a crush on me, it’s that his brain has processed the gratefulness he feels towards me for saving his life as affection. He thinks he has a crush, because his brain is telling him he does. Another case could be that he doesn’t know how to express how grateful he is, or he feels guilty for hurting me so his brain is saying that it has a crush on me,” Alfred explained. Matthew sat back in his chair, impressed.  _ It’s like he thinks I’m an idiot _ , Alfred thought,  _ But my original house was Ravenclaw.  _

 

“Really? Will it go away,” Hermione asked. Alfred smirked. 

 

“Of course. But… let’s just let it go for now. I  _ really  _ like the endless worshipping,” Alfred said, laughing at Hermione’s flabbergasted expression. 

 

“You’re saying you want us to let this run it’s course,” Hermione asked. 

 

“Basically. It’s harmless, so no worries? Well, it’s sort of harmless. Sometimes the person with the complex can go crazy and kill anyone who they see as a threat, but it’s not like Neville has any past experience of mental illness. Right?” Harry shrugged in reply. Alfred winced, “Maybe we should get him help for that.” 

 

“Hey, onto more serious subjects… what do you think that dog was hiding,” Hermione asked. Alfred looked around, confused. “You know, the three headed one?” 

 

“You guys met a three headed dog?! Where was I,” Alfred whisper-shouted.

 

“‘Ospital Wing. Twas ze night after you ‘elped Neville. On ze Quidditch pitch,” Matthew answered, waving his hand flippantly. 

 

“You guys went on an adventure without me? Rude,” Alfred huffed, crossing his arms. Matthew smiled and rolled his eyes.

 

“Anyway. What do you guys think that dog was hiding?” Hermione interrupted before Matthew could grace Alfred’s comment with a response.

 

“Yes, it was standing on some sort of trap door. So zere is no doubt zat zey were ‘iding somezing underneaz ze ‘ound,” Matthew said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. 

 

“What’re you all talkin’ ‘bout?”The group of five all turned to see Hagrid.

 

“Oh! Well, they wanted to know what the three headed dog in the forbidden corridor was hiding. Obviously it’s hiding something, as it was standing on a trap door. Say, you wouldn’t happen to know, Hagrid, would you?” Alfred could hear Matthew facepalm and insult him in French, but disregarded it. 

 

“Who told ye ‘bout Fluffy,” Hagrid asked, his voice shocked and just a little betrayed.

 

“Fluffy?! That  _ thing  _  has a name?” Hermione sounded absolutely disgusted.

 

“Course he does, he’s mine. And look. What Fluffy is guardin’ is betweenProfessor Dumbledore an’ Nicholas Flamel,” Hagrid froze, “I shouldn’t’ve said that.  I should not have said that.”

 

A mischievous grin spread across Alfred’s face, “Oh, but we’re  _ so  _ glad you did.”

 

“Oh,  _ oui _ ,” Matthew’s face split into a matching grin, “ _ Monsieur  _  ‘Agrid. Now, tell us, ‘oo is Nicholas Flamel, hm?”

 

“Why, that’s, that’s! He’s no one, boys. Don’t you worry ‘bout it,” Hagrid said, walking off with a pile of books in his arms.

 

“Hm… what do you say we pay Hagrid a little visit later?” Alfred popped a white rectangular thing in his mouth.

 

“What did you just put in your mouz?” Matthew’s question went ignored.

 

“I think that’s a  brilliant plan, Alfred,” Harry said.

 

“Why do you smell like that?” Alfred cocked his head at Ron’s question.  

 

Alfred smiled confusedly, “Smell like what?” 

 

“Toothpaste!” Everyone sent Ron a look of utter bewilderment.

 

“Oh~!!! You mean like peppermint! Because at breakfast this morning my best friend out of the entire world sent me a package of peppermint candies!!! I’ve been eating them all day!!! Plus, peppermint makes me feel safe. Like when I was younger and I was sick and dad would give me peppermint tea and peppermint candy!! Remember, Mattie?” Alfred turned to his older brother. Matthew cocked his head and nodded slightly.

 

“ _ Oui _ , ‘e did do zat.  _ Mon papa  _  always gave me ‘oney,” Matthew said. 

 

“Honey always makes me really hopeful. I don’t really like it,” Alfred said, scrunching his face.

 

“OK, what is up with that?” Ron interrupted, “You always do that!”

 

“Do what,” Hermione asked.

 

“He always associates emotions with food. And when he comments about how he knows what we’re feeling he just says it’s because of some taste or another,” Ron said. Alfred laughed breathily.

 

“Not only that,” Harry said, “But when he talks to people he always looks above their head instead of at their face, like he’s reading something.” 

 

“That’s true, I’ve noticed it, too,” Hermione said. All looked to Alfred and Matthew, who were speaking rapidly in some other language. It wasn’t French, that was for sure. Though it sounded vaguely so. If Harry had to guess, he’d say it were a combination of every language on Earth and then some.

 

“Guys? Care to explain?” The brothers looked to Ron and sighed.

 

“I associate certain tastes with emotions and vice versa because, emotions taste like different things. Sometimes they’re my emotions, sometimes the emotions of those around me. It’s called synesthesia. At least, one form of it. There are actually several. I have two forms of it,” Alfred explained.

 

“You taste certain things with certain emotions?” Hermione looked curious.

 

“Yep! Most commonly I taste blood, because that’s what contentment taste like to me. It’s why I eat a lot of the time, to try to keep the taste away. I hate the taste of blood,” Alfred answered.

 

“What about the things above people’s heads,” Harry asked.

 

“Zat one is a lot easier to explain. When people speak, Alfred sees zeir words above zeir ‘eads in different colours depending on ‘oo zey are. It is quite interesting,” Matthew said.

 

“Really? Does everyone have a different shade?” Hermione leaned forward eagerly.

 

“Sort of. People who have very similar accents or voices will have the same colour, but in different shades. Like, dad-Arthur- has pink words. Because my voice and speech patterns are so similar to his, mine is a light pink. Mattie’s papa’s colour is blue,because of how similar the two speech patterns are for them Mattie’s is a light blue,” Alfred explained.

 

“Cool! What’s my colour,” Ron asked. 

 

“It’s a neon or pastel purple, really sort of depends on the lighting with yours,” Alfred answered.

 

“What about mine,” Hermione asked.

 

“Bright yellow. Harry’s is bright red, if you were wondering. And my best friend’s gold,” Alfred said.

 

“I didn’t know Kiku’s was gold,” Matthew commented. 

 

“I never told you? Huh, weird. I coulda sworn I told you all of them,” Alfred said.

 

“No, you never even told me Ludwig’s,” Matthew responded.

 

“Oh. His is orange. A rather pretty shade, too,” Alfred said. 

 

“Guys! We have more important things to discuss, like the books Hagrid was checking out,” Hermione said.

 

“Which were…?” Matthew gestured for her to continue. She held up two books that were identical to the ones Hagrid had been carrying.

 

“Dragon books,” she said. 

 

“You don't zink…” Matthew trailed off

 

“YES” Alfred was, unfortunately, sent out of the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congrats. Do you want brain bleach? No, go ahead. Don't be afraid to ask. I may have drank it all, but I'll always lend you some if I have it.


	12. Chapter Eleven: Of Actual Dragons, Alfred Figuring Things Out, and Why Matthew Doesn't Like Norbert (Plus: Kumajirou Finally Gets Noticed)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (｀∀´)Ψ

Harry wasn’t exactly sure why they were doing this, though he guessed it was curiosity. And Alfred wouldn’t shut up about the possible dragon Hagrid was keeping. So they ended up sneaking out of the dorms and going to Hagrid’s. Alfred and Matthew were speaking in the same language as they had been in the library, though Harry still wasn’t sure of what it was and he didn’t ask. Shockingly, neither did Hermione or Ron. Alfred was also humming some song in breaks between he and Matthew’s conversation. It was strange, actually. This language seemed so much more natural coming out of Alfred and Matthew’s mouths than either English or French. 

 

“Are we there yet?” Alfred switched back to English easily.

 

“Almost. I always forget that you and Matthew and Hermione didn’t go to Hagrid’s with us the first week,” Harry responded. Alfred’s face contorted with fear, but it was gone in a flash. Replaced by his usual cheerful look. Harry’s brow crinkled. That was another thing Harry had noticed about Alfred recently. He often hid his emotions behind a facade of happiness. It was… disconcerting to the raven-haired boy. Matthew brushed back his half-brother’s hair.

 

“Lapin, you need to do somezing about your ‘air. It is getting in ze way,” Matthew said. Alfred brushed him off.

 

“I’ll get a bandana later. Stop worrying, bro,” Alfred said, flippantly waving his hand. Matthew shrugged and the two started a conversation in the language from before. Harry tilted his head. Why didn’t Alfred just use a hair tie? Hermione always had a bunch on her. And a ponytail  would look a lot less stupid than a bandana. But, to each his own. They walked up to Hagrid’s door and knocked. Hagrid opened it and quickly pulled Harry in by the shirt. Harry grabbed Ron, who grabbed Hermione, who grabbed Matthew who grabbed Alfred. The five ended up on the floor in a tangled heap, with Alfred on top.

 

“Hm. I always saw myself more as a bottom.” Alfred’s comment earned him a smack on the head by Matthew when they all untangled themselves. He didn’t seem to regret it, though.

 

“What’re are you cooking, ‘agrid?” Matthew brushed himself off and hugged his polar bear closer. Wait. POLAR BEAR?! Since when has that been there?! Harry didn’t have time to ponder it. 

 

“Erm…” Hagrid didn’t answer. So, taking the initiative, Alfred pulled whatever it was out of the flames and set it on the table.

 

“Imma need new gloves,” Alfred reflected. Matthew smacked him on he head again. 

 

“Is that a dragon?!” Hermione peered down at the egg as it began to hatch and crack. Ron gasped.

 

“That’s not just any dragon! That’s a Norwegian Ridgeback! Blimey, Hagrid, how’d you get one,” Ron asked. 

 

“Won ‘im off a guy in the pub,” Hagrid said.

 

“That was no guy, THAT WAS THE PHANTOM!!!” everyone ignored Alfred’s outburst. 

 

“Zis ze same guy zat gave you ze cerberus,” Matthew asked.

 

“Nah, that was a Greek chap. This one was a chap with a strange accent. Had a cross in his hair,” Hagrid answered. Both Matthew and Alfred growled.

 

“Heracles Karpusi,” Alfred growled at the same time that Matthew growled, 

 

“Lukas Bondevik.” 

 

“You know the two of them,” Hagrid asked.

 

“Damn that Greek! So what if I won’t help him?! So what if he’s part of NATO?! That doesn’t mean I’m obligated to help him! Now what does he do?! Goes and bothers one of Arthur’s! Goddamnit! Look, I have to go. You all, be good. Goddamnit, Heracles,” Alfred ranted. He quickly stood up and swept out of Hagrid’s house. His walk was different. He wasn’t timid and cheerful now. No, most definitely not. Everything about him screamed power and dignity. His steps were like those of pure royalty. 

 

“Where did he go,” Hermione asked. 

 

“To take care of business. ‘E’ll be back later,” Matthew said, turning to glare at the dragon, “Stupid Norwegian.”

 

“Oi! Don’t insult Norbert,” Hagrid objected.

 

“You named it,” Ron asked.

 

“Don’t name it! You’ll get attached!” Harry heard Hermione’s comment, but he was lost to the conversation. He was thinking about Alfred.

 

I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO EXACTLY, SO I’LL JUST FUCK SHIT UP

 

_ With Alfred and Heracles _

 

America, now his usual age (he had stopped off at Alistair’s before going to where Heracles was), stormed into the EU meeting. All of the countries winced at the sight of an angry America. America stormed right up to the sleeping Greece and seized him by his shirt collar. He lifted the older Nation clear off the floor, despite Greece being taller than him, and slammed him against the wall. Greece was immediately awake.

 

“What the hell were you doing with a Cerberus in Scotland,” America  growled, “Trying to get help with your economy? Don’t go bothering humans just ‘cause I refused to help you.” Greece furrowed his brow.

 

“I haven’t been in Scotland,” Greece said. America kicked away one of Greece’s cats and slammed him against the wall.

 

“Don’t. Lie. I have a witness. A human that you talked to. That you gave the Cerberus to,” America said, glaring even harder. If looks could kill, Greece would’ve been a fallen Nation by now. 

 

“I haven’t been in Scotland recently, much less with a Cerberus,” Greece responded, eyes trained on the injured (possibly dead) cat.

 

“What other Greek man would have access to a Cerberus, than the personification itself?” America was not impressed. 

 

“America!”

 

“Shut it, Germany. Tell me, Greece.”

 

“I-I don’t know! None of my people have been in contact with a Cerberus recently. I swear!” Greece grabbed America’s hands, his eyes pleading. America knew, from the older Nation’s words, he was telling the truth. He dropped the other, and turned to look at England.

 

“How easy would it be for one of yours to mimic a Greek accent,” America asked, voice hard and eyes cold.

 

“Very. Assuming they knew what it sounded like,” England said, in a perfect imitation of Greece’s accent. A look of realization broke on his face. The joy of having figured it out breaking through the ice in his eyes.

 

“Of course! Who is Nicholas Flamel?”

 

“The inventor of the Sorcerer's Stone. Why?” England cocked his head to the side. 

 

“That’s what Fluffy is hiding! Oh, that makes perfect sense! Someone, presumably whomever wants to steal it, gave Hagrid a Cerberus and faked a Greek accent to disguise himself. That means it has to be someone that Hagrid knows? But who? Oh! Another teacher! Of course! Who? Snape? No, too much like Norway,” there was an indignant noise from Norway, “No way is it her, and stuttering dude is  _ way  _ too much like Latvia to have the courage to do that. Obviously it’s someone clever. Someone that has enough brains to come up with the plan. Not the current head of my original house. His height is so distinct, Hagrid would’ve immediately recognized it. The bumblebee? Nah, he’s protecting it, why would he want to steal it? That’s just stupid. But… who then? I don’t know! God, I hate not knowing! Maybe it’s. No, that makes so sense. Is it? No. I may not like him, but he can’t. Or can he? Wouldn’t it bring him. Oh! Someone working with! Perfect! Of course! The sorcerer’s stone has the same capabilities as! It would bring him back! What was his? Something French…? Can’t. Doesn’t. I need to! Oh but, I can’t! He has to! England, turn me back into a child!” Most of the Nations seemed astonished at the way America’s mind worked. And his half finished sentences. 

 

“Sorry about your cat, Greece. I’ll help with your economy. Since I killed your cat.”

 

IMMA DESTROY MY SCHOOL!!! I HATED EVERYONE IN THERE ANYWAY!!!

 

The next morning, Alfred strode into the great hall like nothing had happened the night before. His gloves were repaired and he had a white bandana holding his hair away from his head. Harry gave the boy a strange look as he sat down. 

 

“Fix what you needed to,” Matthew asked, coming to sit down next to all of them. 

 

“It wasn’t who I thought it was. Speaking of, I need to talk to you.” Alfred stood and led Matthew out of the hall. Harry didn’t know what they would be talking about, but if the look on Alfred’s face was anything to go off of it was something personal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fucking love my emojis. Do y'all like them? Eh? Eh? No? That's fine. No, I'm not mad.


	13. Chapter Twelve: Of Christmas, Family, and Presents for Two Boys Who Haven't Had Some In A While

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (┛ಠДಠ)┛彡┻━┻

It had been a few weeks since the quintet had found out about Hagrid’s dragon, and it was now Christmas. Hermione and Matthew would be leaving Hogwarts, while the other three stayed. Hermione, Ron and Harry were confused as to why Alfred would not be going with Matthew.

 

“Mattie’s dad isn’t my dad, so it wouldn’t really be appreciated if I crashed their party. Arthur usually spends Christmas drunk, not something I wanna see, and both Berwald and Antonio have families to spend it with. I wouldn’t wanna intrude. I’m used to spending it alone, don’t worry,” Alfred explained. Hermione still looked distressed.

 

“You could spend it with me and my parents,” Hermione offered. Alfred laughed slightly and shook his head.

 

“No, that’s alright. You already have to deal with me during classes, I wouldn’t want to subject you to me on your holidays as well. Plus, I don’t want to bother your parents. But, thanks,” Alfred said, hugging Hermione before she walked out the Great Hall door. He and Matthew had already said goodbye. 

 

SERIOUSLY. IT HASN’T EVEN BE THANKSGIVING. AT LEAST LT THANKSGIVING PASS BEFORE FAIRY LIGHTS

 

The days leading up to Christmas were all rather fun. Or at least, they should have been. The Weasley twins enchanted snowballs to fly and hit the back of Quirrell’s turban, and there was amazing food every meal. However, now that school was on holiday Allan and Amelia had taken to sending Alfred the paperwork rather than doing it themselves. Alfred couldn’t blame them. Allan’s version of England, France and Canada all loved to have Christmas with him, and it was the same with Amelia and her versions. Alfred’s? Not so much. Alfred couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t worked over Christmas, it was probably when he was still a colony. And it didn’t look like he’d get a break now. 

 

“Alfred! C’mon, we’re gonna have a snowball fight with Fred and George! You gotta join us,” Ron exclaimed happily. Alfred looked to his friend, then back to all the paperwork he had yet to do. He sighed.

 

“I’m sorry, guys, I can’t.  I have stuff I need to work on,” Alfred said. As a cover story for the paperwork, Alfred said he had Allan and Amelia send him muggle work so he didn’t forget his muggle education. They believed him. Alfred almost wished they hadn’t.

 

“You’ve been working all break, mate. It’s Christmas Eve, take a break,” Ron said. 

 

“Ron, I have so much on my plate,” Alfred responded, gesturing pathetically to the, quite large, pile of paperwork in front of him.

 

“Come away with us! You need to get outside,” Harry said. Alfred sighed. Eleven year olds just didn’t understand, did they? He wished he could join them, but he just couldn’t. He had to help Greece and Germany and Austria and so many others. And then Russia had also asked for his help, since the collapse, and if he wasn’t mistaken his boss said that Belarus was now living with him and when had that happened and he felt like he was just going to explode! Instead of expressing this, like he should, he said,

 

“I will try to get away.” Harry and Ron nodded and left the common room. Alfred never ended up joining them.

 

Harry and Ron came to get him at dinner time. He was filling out the paperwork for helping Ivan when they came in. Both exchanged worried looks. He couldn’t see the looks, but he tasted them.

 

“Alfred, come on. It’s dinner,” Ron said. Alfred responded the same way he did when Amelia or Allan said that.

 

“I’ll be down in just a minute, save my plate.”

 

“There’s a surprise, and it can’t wait. Come on,” Harry grabbed Alfred’s arm and pulled him away, Ron helping. With their combined strength, they managed to convince Alfred to come along with them. 

 

Down in the Great Hall, Alfred was met with a sight he had never expected. There, right in front of him, stood his family. It wasn’t Berwald or Antonio, or even Arthur. There was a familiar Australian, New Zealander, Indian, Seychellian, Sealandian and, of course, Canadian. There was a Frenchman, too, but Alfred didn’t notice him until later. All of the former colonies of Arthur appeared eleven or younger, some older though. Alfred froze.

 

“W-what…?” he trailed off. 

 

“Miss Granger wrote me and your brother when she felt concerned about how you had to spend Christmas alone. And how used to it you seemed. I invited your…  _ siblings  _ for Christmas Eve dinner,” Dumbledore said. Matthew walked up hugged his brother.

 

“Only been apart for ‘alf a week and you look like you’re about to cry at ze sight of me,” Matthew joked. Alfred wiped uselessly at his eyes.

 

“I’m sorry, guys, you didn’t have to do this. Hermione shouldn’t have disturbed your holidays,” Alfred said, looking apologetically at his siblings. 

 

“Stupeed boy, it ees no trouble. If we ‘ad not wanted to come, we would not ‘ave,” Michelle said, ruffling the younger Nation’s hair. Alfred tugged one of her pigtails in response.

 

“Yeah! Plus, Jerk Arthur is a jerk! You’re much cooler!” Peter had not needed to be deaged, as he naturally appeared twelve. Alfred hugged the micronation.

 

“Really, though, you shouldn’t have come. I can’t stay for dinner. I have too much work,” Alfred said, turning on his heel to leave the room. He was stopped by a strong arm scooping him up and slinging him over a shoulder.

 

“Not so fast, mate!” Alfred sighed and kicked at Jett’s chest.

 

“Why does everyone pick me up like this,” Alfred cried.

 

“It’s oddly satisfying. I like one of your book series,” Toby said,smiling up at Alfred, who raised an eyebrow,

 

“Oh? Which one is that,” Alfred asked.

 

“Lord of the Rings. Can I have it,” Toby asked.

 

“How did you get that series?”

 

“I stole it from your house. Can I have it?” 

 

“You can have my copy of it, sure,” Alfred said, pleasantly confused. He raised an eyebrow at Neeraja, who just smiled and shook his head.

 

“You needed the break. We figured we should visit. Please, Alfred, don’t send us away,” Neeraja said, brown eyes pleading. Alfred sighed.

 

“Whatever. Only if Jett puts me down, though.” Jett laughed.

 

“Never!”

 

The night was the best Christmas Alfred had had in awhile, though it was ruined by the thought of all the paperwork he would have to finish tomorrow. Currently, his siblings were messing around with the other students still at Hogwarts. Alfred watched from the sidelines.

 

“Did you ‘ave fun,” Francis asked. Alfred looked away.

 

“Sorry about ruining your time with Mattie. You guys didn’t have to come,” Alfred said.

 

“You are correct, we did not. ‘Owevair, I ‘ad no probelem coming to zis. Eet did not coneflict wiz my plans. And eet ‘as been so long since I ‘ave seen you ‘appy,  _ mon petite lapin perdu _ , zat I could not reseest taking Matthieu and ze uzzers to see you,” Francis said. Alfred looked away, face hot.

 

“Why are you making zat face? I am not going to do anyzing to you, unless you weesh me to,” Francis said, amused. Alfred’s face grew hotter.

 

“Th-that’s not why,” Alfred said, embarrassed and just a little outraged. Francis grinned and leaned closer.

 

“Are you sure,” he asked, voice silky. Alfred’s face erupted in a blush and, out of nowhere, he pulled a book and started chasing Francis around the hall.

 

“Get back here so I can hit you!” the others watched with amusement. 

 

SERIOUSLY. STUPID SOCIETY. PUTTING CHRISTMAS STUFF UP BEFORE IT’S EVEN WINTER

 

Christmas morning found Alfred, once again, working on paperwork and his family gone. And Francis with a bump on his head, but that was neither here nor there. Ron and Harry came down around noon, both with happy looks on their faces. Though they faded when they saw Alfred.

 

“Have you been down here all night…?” Ron sounded concerned. Alfred nodded.

 

“Well, that doesn’t matter! There’re presents upstairs,” Harry said, voice extremely excited. Alfred smiled.

 

“You guys enjoy your presents,” Alfred said, voice husky from lack of sleep. And other reasons. (Somewhere, a certain Frenchman sneezed). 

 

“No, Alfred, there’re presents for you!” Ron grabbed the blond’s arm again and dragged him upstairs. Alfred had froze at the sight of presents on the end of his, slightly dusty, bed. Not even as a colony had he been given presents for Christmas, and neither Allan nor Amelia found the idea practical. 

 

“Are those… are those for me,” Alfred asked.

 

“I got some, too! Looks like we’re both shocked to get some,” Harry said. Alfred walked up to the end of his bed. There were only three, but he didn’t care. Really, the only time he got presents was on his birthday. And that was mainly from the Nations that had helped with his Revolution. 

 

“Are these from you guys,” Alfred asked. Ron and Harry nodded.

 

“Sorry it isn’t bigger. It was the best I could afford, and it’s nothing close to what you got me,” Ron said. Alfred pulled him into a hug.

 

“It’s perfect,” Alfred whispered.

 

“Blimey, mate, you haven’t even seen what it is,” Ron said. Alfred laughed. He didn’t need to see what it was. It was perfect. No matter what. This Christmas, it seemed, was full of surprises. And while it may temporary, this whole thing was temporary, Alfred still wished it could go on forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS BITCH EMPTY!
> 
> (╯°Д°)╯ ┻━┻
> 
> YEET


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Of Cloaks, Harry Figuring Things Out, and Things Wanted Most

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ༼つಠ益ಠ༽つ ─=≡ΣO))

Alfred was dragged away from his work for the third time in two days. He looked to see Harry and Ron standing there, holding up the edge of Harry’s new invisibility cloak. Alfred rubbed his eyes, trying to avoid the large,  bruise-like bags under his eyes. Really, he shouldn’t be this tired. He had gone longer without sleep. His body was too used to sleeping every night. He stood, elegantly hid a yawn and went under the cloak. He didn’t even need to duck, what with how short he was compared to the other two.

 

“Where’re we going…?” Alfred’s voice had a feathery quality that usually own happened when he had had a particularly bad nightmare. 

 

“I wanna show you guys something,” Harry said, extremely excited seeming.

 

“Sunuvabitch…” Alfred trailed off, clinging to the back of Ron’s pajama shirt like a young child so as not to get left behind. Ron laughed slightly at how Alfred had to cling to him. 

 

“Language,” Ron said, almost instinctually. Alfred laughed.

 

“You sound like Captain America,” Alfred said.

 

“Who?” the other two spoke in unison.

 

“He’s a comic book character, I’ll show you guys later,” Alfred said, laughing. 

 

“OK! We’re here, guys, look.” Harry positioned pointed to a mirror in the middle of an unused classroom. Ron and Alfred looked into it and shook their heads.

 

“There’s nothing there, mate,” Ron said.

 

“No, no there’s my family…” Harry trailed off, “Look in it proper.” Ron stepped in front of the mirror properly.

 

“Whoa! I’m head boy! And Quidditch captain, too! And… we’ve won the house cup! I’m shaking hands with Dumbledore!” Ron sounded genuinely excited. Harry looked confused, “Harry, do you think this mirror shows the future?”

 

“How could it? All my family is dead,” Harry said sadly. Alfred, however, knew what the mirror did. Arthur had told him about it, had had him look in it when he was a colony. It showed you what your heart wanted most. Harry seemed very lonely, while Ron was a bit more materialistic. Alfred was almost scared of what he would see if he looked again. However, Ron pulled him next to him and stepped away.

 

The scene before Alfred was actually a memory. One he remembered well, too. It was during the 20s, when Toris and his alternates were still living with Alfred and his alternates. Alfred watched the scene play out.

 

_ Alfred, Allan, Amelia and Anna were all dressed up for going out to one of the Speakeasies in town. Mostly. Alfred was tying Allan’s tie and Anna had to help Amelia with her headdress. They were stopped by their current Lithuanian guests. _

 

_ “Mister Alfred, Mister Allan, Miss Anna, Miss Amelia, are you all going somewhere?” Alfred looked at Toris and smiled. _

 

_ “We’re going dancing. Would you like to join us, Toris, Tatjana, Tule, Tomas,” Alfred asked. Toris blushed looking at his alternates.  _

 

_ “I-if you don’t mind, Mister Alfred,” Tatjana said, looking a bit away from Alfred. _

 

_ “Do you all know how to Charleston? Or… any other dance,” Anna asked, her maroon eyes mischievous. The Lithuanians shook their heads.  _

 

_ That night, they never did end up going to the Speakeasy, but they had a perfectly good time teaching their workers how to dance. At the end of the night, when Allan, Anna, Amelia, Tatjana, Tule and Tomas had fallen asleep Alfred and Toris remained awake, Alfred leaning his head on his Lithuanian friend’s lap. _

 

_ “Did you have fun tonight, Toris,” Alfred asked. _

 

_ “Did you,” Toris countered. Alfred admired the other’s beautiful aquamarine words. His words were always in a slanted text. Alfred could watch the other speak for days. _

 

_ “This isn’t about me, Toris,” Alfred laughed, tracing Toris’ words with his finger. _

 

_ “I had a lot of fun. Thank you, Mister Alfred,”  Toris said. Alfred sighed and closed his eyes, snuggling into Toris’ lap. _

 

_ “Always,” Alfred said. Before fell asleep, there was three words muttered from Toris.  _

 

_ “Aš tave myliu, Mister Alfred.”  _

 

Alfred shook himself out of the scene and looked away. He had to physically force himself not to look back or call for his friend. Alfred looked to his confused friends and wiped away the tears on his cheeks. 

 

“We should go, guys. I have a bad feeling about this mirror,” Alfred tugged Harry and Ron after him. 

 

“Alfred, what did you see?” Alfred looked down at Harry’s question.

 

“Something that never can never happen again,” Alfred answered. Harry shrugged and Alfred was left to his thoughts.  _ Aš tave myliu? What does that mean? Damn, I wish I knew Lithuanian. Should’ve learned it instead of having Toris learn English. Though he uses 20s slang, when he does. I miss the 20s. I’ll learn Lithuanian later. _

 

“So, I figured something else out,” Harry said. Without his notice, the trio had ended up back at the common room. Alfred took his former seat. 

 

“Oh? What’s that?” Alfred leaned forward, curious. 

 

“Fluffy! He’s guarding the sorcerer’s stone! I was doing research in the library and-” Harry was interrupted as Alfred snorted.

 

Harry narrowed his eyes at his short friend. The blond looked amused, his eyes glinting with a mischievousness Harry had never had directed at himself. Alfred looked about ready to full out laugh.  Ron also had his eyes narrowed and both leaned closer to Alfred.

 

“What’s so funny,” Ron asked. Alfred laughed again and Harry glared.

 

“It’s just… it took you that long to figure out what Fluffy was guarding?” the next part was whispered so lowly that Harry just barely caught it, “I really overestimated you guys.” 

 

“You act as if you knew the entire time,” Ron said, smirking as he knew that Alfred had just found out as well. Except, he was proven wrong.

 

“Not the whole time, no. Since we met Norbert. Who, by the way, has grown to be adorable,” Alfred said, covering his mouth in that way he did when laughing or smiling. 

 

“And you kept it from us? You knew we wanted to know what the dog was hiding,” Harry said, outraged. And, just a little… betrayed.

 

“I wanted ya’ll to figure it out for yourselves. Figured it wasn’t fair if I was the one that told ya’ll,” Alfred said, shrugging. Harry glared at his blonde friend.

 

“You say that like you’re some sort of genius,” Ron said. Alfred shrugged.

 

“Technically, I am. Anyway, it’s been a long few days. I’m all caught up on my work, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to bed,” Alfred said, standing up. He gathered his papers in his arms and headed up the stairs to his dorm.

 

“Something doesn’t seem right,” Ron said.

 

“Oh, you mean, other than the fact that the boy that was supposed to be our best friend is keeping things from us? I mean, sure, this time it’s simple. But what if next time it’s something more dangerous?” Harry asked, looking at Ron, who nodded.

 

“Do you think Matthew knew, too?” Ron asked.

 

“No way. I’ve noticed, Alfred lies about a lot of things. Matthew tends to be more open. I think Matthew would’ve told us if Alfred had told him,” Harry answered. 

 

“Yeah, that’s true. Something’s up with Alfred. Remember how nervous he was acting after anytime that someone visited him? I think there’s something wrong with his family,” Ron said. 

 

“You may be right. Remember what that Arthur guy said in the Howler, at the beginning of the year?” Harry asked. Ron nodded, “He threatened to lock Alfred in a room with a bunch of ghosts! But. if History of Magic is any indication, Alfred is terrified of ghosts!”

 

“You don’t think…” Ron trailed off.

 

“It would explain why he’s so scared all the time! Not to mention how clingy and doting he is on Arthur, he’s protecting him!” Harry’s eyes were wide, and Ron’s mimicked them.

 

VERY FEW PEOPLE HAVE COMMENTED ON MY HAMILTON REFERENCES, IT MAKES ME SAD

 

While downstairs Harry and Ron were freaking out over their (incorrect) conclusions, Alfred was upstairs. He was not sleeping, oh no. He was reading a letter he had recently received from Oliver. It read; 

 

_ My Dearest, Alfred, _

 

_ I am afraid that I do not write this bearing good news. In fact, it is quite unfortunately the exact opposite. I have tried to delay writing this letter for as long as I could. However, I find that the longer I keep this knowledge from you the worse the hurt shall be. As such, I have written this letter in the hopes that you shall be able to help. And that you are safe in Hogwarts. It is quite unfortunate but, you see… I am sad to inform you that we no longer know of the locations of Miss Honda Sakura, Miss Amelia F.M. Jones, Miss Michelle Bonnefoy and Mister Ivan Braginsky. I am sad to inform you that… that your… _

 

The letter wasn’t even signed. And Alfred could see why, dried tear drops blotched the ink in some places. New tear drops joined them as Alfred re-read who was missing. He wasn’t on the best terms with Ivan, but they were still friends. And, by God, Alfred found the black colour of the older Nation’s words to be charming. He had just seen Michelle, they had joked together. Hell, they had mussed each other’s hair as they always did! Sakura, she was as much his best friend as Kiku, Kuro and Mizuki! And Amelia… oh, Amelia. Sweet, sweet Ams who was just a bit too sweet and sensitive for her own good. She was his sister! And… now she was gone. The letter continued, this time in different hand writing.

 

_ I do apologize for that, Golden Boy. Oliver had a bit of a break down writing this. I can’t blame him ,what with how fond he is of Amelia. Anyway. Yeah. Amelia, Sakura, Ivan and Michelle are missing. Sorry to tell ya. Sorry about how formal Oliver was, too. He gets like that when he’s sad. It’s not his fault. _

 

_ From, Oliver Kirkland and Francois Bonnefoy _

 

For an absurd reason, Alfred felt like laughing. That was just like Francois. Somehow apologize for and insult Oliver in a paragraph, all while being polite about it. All while he was, of course, drunk. Alfred could smell the alcohol on the paper. But, there were more pressing matters to be attended to. Ams was gone, so was Sakura and Ivan and Michelle. And Alfred… Alfred hadn’t been there to stop it.  _ God damnit!  _ Alfred thought,  _ I’m supposed to be the hero! What the hell kind of hero am I if I can’t even protect my own goddamn sister?! A pathetic one, that’s what!  _ Alfred went to sleep that night with poisonous thoughts in his head and tear stains on his cheeks, the letter still clutched tightly in his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KAMEKAME-HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAa
> 
> I have no idea what that's referencing, but it fit with the emoji in my beginning note. Or, at least, maybe?


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Of Secrets, Suspicions, and Epic Time Skips In The Middle of The Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ಠ⌣ಠ) I'm not mad.

By the time that school started again, Harry and Ron had a full blown theory and explanation. Meanwhile Alfred was more stressed than he had been, yet. Speaking truthfully, Allan didn’t know how to read. Amelia read him what the paperwork said and he told her what they should put that would sound like Alfred. Now that Amelia was gone, Allan was forced to send all of the paperwork to Alfred as their boss would surely know if one of the other countries helped with it. Alfred had been angry at first, telling Allan to ask Anna. Alas, Anna didn’t know how to read either. As such, Alfred was left with the paperwork and homework. 

 

“Alfred, maybe you should just let me,” Matthew said one day at breakfast.

 

“No can do, Mattie. He knows the difference between my handwriting and yours. We’ve switched enough times for him to be able to tell,” Alfred responded, absentmindedly eating a piece of sausage. 

 

“I forget, why do you ‘ave to do ze paperwork again? I zought zat Allan and ze… uzzer one was doing it?” Matthew asked. Alfred winced at how Matthew spoke of Amelia. He knew the two didn’t get along, no small part due to Amelia herself. But did he have to always speak of her like that?

 

“Ams refuses to do my paperwork anymore, and since Allan can’t read he has to send it to me,” Alfred answered.

 

“Can’t ‘e getze uzzer uzzer one to do it?” Matthew asked.

 

“Anna? She can’t read, either. I’m fine, really,” Alfred said. Matthew shrugged and returned to his table as Harry and Ron informed Hermione of their…  _ discoveries.  _ Both those including Fluffy and those including Alfred. Alfred ignored them, knowing what they were going to say.

 

“Oh jeez…” Alfred said, looking down at the letter in his hands.

 

“Hm? What is it, what’s wrong, Alfred?” Hermione asked.

 

“I have a thing in a few months. I’ll be gone for a few weeks,” Alfred answered, “Well. So will Mattie. I should go tell him.” Alfred stood up and ran over to his brother, dragging him out of the hall. 

 

“Hey, Mattie, we got a meeting in a few months,” Alfred said. Matthew raised his eyebrows. 

 

“Where is it zis time?” Matthew asked. Alfred looked at the paper and groaned. 

 

“South Korea,” Alfred said, with a small whimper at the end. Anger flashed briefly on Matthew’s face, before it turned sympathetic. 

 

“It is alright, you will not get ‘urt, zere,  _ mon petite lapin _ . I will make sure of it. In any case, should you brush up on your Korean? You know all ze uzzers will ‘ave you translate,” Matthew said. Alfred sighed.

 

“ 네, 그들은 가장 할 것입니다,” Alfred responded. Matthew laughed. 

 

“I ‘ave no idea what you just said, but I am going to assume zat it was somezing along ze lines of ‘zey will’,” Matthew said, laughing. Alfred laughed and nodded his head as the two went back into the hall. For a while, at least, Alfred’s mind was off the location of the next meeting and, more importantly, the hosting personification. 

 

“So, where do you have to go?” Harry asked. 

 

“South Korea,” Alfred answered.

 

“For what?” Ron asked. Hermione smacked his arm for being nosy.

 

“Nah, it’s alright. It’s just for a family thing, it’s not until a few months and I’ll be back for the end of term, don’t worry,” Alfred answered. 

 

“If you say so,” Hermione said, shrugging.

 

HAS ANYONE SEEN THE BLAME IT ON THE GIRLS VIDEO FOR MIKA??? IT REMINDS ME OF A CLOCKWORK ORANGE AND I DON’T KNOW IF IT’S INTENTIONAL OR NAH

 

_ A Few Months Later _

 

It had only been a few days since Alfred and Matthew had left and Harry was already feeling the loss. Irrationally, a part of himself said that they left because they didn’t want to be his friends anymore. As was stated, that was ridiculous. When they had left, Alfred had pressed a small object into Harry’s hand. It was wrapped in old parchment that had strange and, seemingly random, words on it. 

 

“Harry,” Alfred had said, the most serious the taller boy had ever seen him, “If you need me, or Mattie, for anything. Anything at all, just unwrap the paper and say our names.  We’ll be there as soon as we can, alright? I promise, we’ll be there.”

 

“What if I don’t need you until you’re already back?” Harry asked. 

 

“Then keep it. Like I said, it’ll work anytime. But, look, it will only work three times. Do not waste them,” Alfred said. Harry nodded and hugged his shorter friend. Alfred hugged back, but quickly released Harry and looked sheepishly at his hands. 

 

“Anyway, we should get going. We’ll see you in a little,” Alfred said, grabbing Matthew and walking out of the castle. 

 

“Do you think Hagrid still misses Norbert?” Ron’s question broke Harry out of his memories.

 

“I don’t know, probably,” Hermione said. Harry turned his gaze away from the fire.

 

“It’s going to happen tonight,” Harry said. The other two froze.

 

“I’m sorry?” Hermione asked.

 

“Snape. The Stone. He’s going to steal it tonight,” Harry said. 

 

“Should we… call Alfred and Matthew?” Ron asked. Harry shook his head.

 

“I get the feeling that Alfred doesn’t think we can do it on our own. That’s why he game me this,” Harry pulled the small gift out of his pocket, “I want to prove him wrong. We can do it without their help.”

 

“Harry, he gave you that because he was worried. I think we should call them if we’re going to go after Snape,” Hermione said. 

 

“No, no it has to be us.  I don’t know why, but it has to be only the three of us,” Harry said. 

 

“Is that why they left?” Ron asked randomly, “I mean, they did leave right when we’re going to be doing this. Maybe… they arranged it.”

 

“That’s ridiculous. Alfred and Matthew would have to want the stone themselves to do that,” Hermione said. 

 

“Are you sure they don’t?” Ron asked. 

 

“Ronald, what has gotten into you? They’re our friends,” Hermione said.

 

“I know! I just… I don’t know. These thoughts have been in my head since last night. I had a really weird dream,” Ron said.

 

“What was it about?” Hermione asked.

 

“I… don’t know. Nothing, really, But there was this woman dressed really weirdly. Like, she had a clock on her head, ya know? And we were in this mansion, standing next to a piano. Except there was somebody sitting next to the piano and… I’m pretty sure they were dead. Anyway, the woman just stroked the person’s face and… they woke up. As if they hadn’t been dead. And I followed her around the mansion as she did that to, like, seven other people.

 

“I recognized a few of them, but not most of them. And then she got to these three people and- one looked like Matthew, except older, and he was lying on a white sheet. Dead. Next to him was that guy that dropped Matthew and Alfred off at the train station- Arthur. And, between them, was Alfred. Except older. The other two were clearly dead but Alfred was just crying,” Ron said. The other two looked disturbed. 

 

“But then the woman turned to me and shushed me, just as I was about to call out for Alfred. And she touched Matthew and Arthur’s face and they woke up and Alfred stopped crying, but then they were gone. Into the mansion entry way will all the other people she woke up. Then she turned to me, as I was looking down at them, and said ‘Be careful with those two, they’re not all they seem’,” Ron said. Hermione cocked her head.

 

“That’s a very strange dream, Ronald, but not enough to condemn Matthew and Alfred,” Hermione said.

 

“Though I do wonder… who were all those people? The one’s that that woman woke up,” Harry said, then shrugged. “In any case, we should go tonight. After lights out.” 

 

OOH HARRY YOU GETTING INTO TROUBLE WITHOUT ALFIE BOY THERE TO BAIL YOU OUT

 

That night, Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way down from the common room, invisibility cloak in hand for when they got out of the common room. However, on their way out they were stopped as Neville stood up and blocked the portrait hole. He looked angry. But a frightened sort of anger. 

 

“Y-you can’t go. You’ll get in trouble, we’ll lose even more points,” Neville said.

 

Harry sighed, “Neville, move.” 

 

“Alfred won’t like you going without him,” Neville said. Well, Harry had to concede. Neville did have a point there. Alfred had seemed so serious before going, and Harry knew that he would be upset about them doing this without him. 

 

“That’s a chance we’ll have to take,” Ron said. 

 

“I-I’ll fight you!” Neville raised his fists, but he still looked uncertain.

 

“Neville, I’m  _ really  _ sorry about this,” Hermione flicked her wand, “ _ Petrificus totalus _ !” Neville froze up and fell over. Harry and Ron lugged him up onto the couch. 

 

THAT WAS A SHORT NEVILLE SCENE. I FEEL BAD FOR NEVILLE NOW. SORRY BUD

 

Before long, Harry found himself walking alone through a corridor towards a new room. Hermione had made her way back to where Ron was and then back upstairs to try to get some help. Harry found himself wishing that he had just waited for Alfred and Matthew to get back. His hand wandered to his left pocket, fingering the wrapping paper surrounding whatever Alfred had given him before leaving. Briefly he considered unwrapping and using to get Alfred, but he quickly steeled himself. This was no time to be afraid. 

 

When he got to the room, he found someone that he was not expecting at all. He found, instead of Snape, Quirrel. Harry stumbled back, unintentionally wrenching back just enough of the paper. 

 

THAT WAS A TERRIBLE END TO THIS PARAGRAPH. JEEZ I NEED TO GET BETTER ABOUT THAT

 

America sat up from his slumped position. It wasn’t that anything interesting had happened at the meeting where he was, aside from a few flashbacks to his time in Korea during the war. No, something interesting had happened with Harry. He had pulled back the paper, but not enough for America to hear the entirety of what was going on, and certainly not enough for Harry to have intentionally ripped the paper to call for him.

 

“Quirrell?” Harry asked. There was a muffled reply, “No, but Snape.” there was another muffled reply. America furrowed his eyebrows. 

 

“America? Are you paying attention?” England asked. America shook his head to clear his thoughts. 

 

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry. Did you need a translation?” America asked. England nodded, “OK. At the moment he’s talking about his relations with North Korea. Poor guy, he’s really having a difficult time adjusting to this. It isn’t all that important.” 

 

“Oh. What were you thinking about?” England asked. 

 

“Just Harry. I think… I think he went after the Sorcerer’s Stone without me,” America said.

 

“Well get back there, wanker! He could get hurt, the exact thing I told you to prevent from happening,” England said. 

 

“It’s not that simple, England. I don’t know for sure where he is so he’d probably be hurt by the time I got to him, anyways. Moreover, I used voodoo to seal the school from anything non-human which, as much as I hate, I am. Non-human, that is. So until he calls for me, there’s nothing I can do,” America explained. England glared, but then sighed and went back to staring at South Korea. 

 

“No! You can’t have it!” America assumed that Harry was talking about the stone. So. Quirrel wanted the stone, not Snape. Then again, America had never thought that Snape was going to be the one to try to steal it. But he had never anticipated that Quirrel would be the one to do it.  _ Pity,  _ America thought,  _ I never accounted for a anyone else in Hogwarts to wear  a facade.  _ Suddenly, Harry cried out shrilly. America just barely restrained himself from falling out of the chair.

 

It was a few minutes later that he heard one word cry out into his subconscious;  _ ALFRED! _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (´･ω･`) Just disappointed.


	16. Chapter Fifteen: Of Goodbyes, The End of an Era, and The Start of a New One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (^▽^)( ^▽)(　^)

Harry awoke to the sound of voices. More specifically, the voices of Ron and Hermione. As soon as his eyes were open, the voices quieted. 

 

“Alfred…?” Harry questioned.

 

“Alfred? He’s not back yet, but we can send him a letter,” Hermione said. 

 

“But… before I passed out I could’ve sworn I saw him,” Harry continued, “Down in the dungeon he made Quirrel stop, he said something. Then I… touched Quirrel and he turned to stone.” 

 

“We haven’t seen Alfred since he got back, maybe you were imagining it,” Ron said. 

 

“Or it was Matthew,” Hermione said. 

 

“No, it was definitely Alfred. Besides, Matthew left with Alfred.” Harry sat up, “But it wasn’t normal Alfred, he looked older.” 

 

“Like, how older?” Ron asked. 

 

“Like, eight? He looked eighteen or nineteen,” Harry answered. 

 

“That’s weird. Did Dumbledore come see you yet?” Hermione asked. 

 

“Yeah, yesterday,” Harry answered. 

 

“Madam Pomfrey said that you could come to the feast tonight,” Ron said. 

 

“Harry! Hey, we came as soon as we could.” Alfred, with Matthew following, came running up to the bed. Neither of them were wearing their robes. Instead, Alfred was in a greenish-tan suit with a white button up and a mahogany tie, his trousers were tucked into black boots with white cuffs. He also wore an old WWII bomber jacket. Matthew wore a simila suit, though more tan than green and with a maroon tie. His trousers were untucked and he had goggled atop his head. His polar bear was tucked to his chest. 

 

“Guys… you look different,” Harry said. Alfred started and pulled the glasses off his face, nudging Matthew so that he did the same. 

 

“Huh, yeah. Sorry we didn’t come sooner, just got in,” Alfred said, making a peace sign with his thumb sticking out at as well. His eyes were closed in a cheesy smile.

 

“Ignore ‘im, ‘e really was worried, but ‘e does not wish to show it,” Matthew said. 

 

“Well. Aside from anything else, that’s just rude,” Alfred huffed. 

 

OHMYGOSH WHEN I WAS WRITING THIS MY DADDY GAVE ME A SELF DEFENSE LESSON IT WAS SO FUN

 

The feast was the last time Harry got to speak to Alfred and Matthew until they got to Kings Cross. When the two stepped off the train, Matthew was immediately pulled into a hug by the Frenchman that Harry had seen at Christmas. Alfred stood back and away, a smile on his face. Harry laughed as Alfred was suddenly swept up into a hug by a moderately tall man with a deep tan and a big smile. Next to him stood the short, scowling man that had come to Hogwarts near the beginning of the year. Harry remembered his name to be Lovino. 

 

“Mijo! Look at you! I forgot how small you were,” the man crowed. 

 

“P-papi! What are you doing here? I thought Arthur was picking me up?” Alfred asked. 

 

“He was going to, but then he got called away on business,” the man said. 

 

“Hello, Alfred,” Hermione chirped. Alfred breathed a sigh of relief and turned to smile at Hermione, though the man was still draped possessively across Alfred’s shoulders. Oddly enough, the Frenchman was glaring fiercely at the man. 

 

“Hi, guys! This is my dad (maybe), Antonio,” Alfred introduced, “Papi, this is-” Antonio cleared his throat and Lovino rolled his eyes alongside Alfred. 

 

Alfred sighed, “ _ Papi, estos son mis amigos _ , Hermione, Harry and Ron.” 

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” Antonio said, beaming. 

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, as well. Alfred’s told us a lot about you,” Hermione said, shaking Antonio’s hand, though she had to reach around Alfred to do so. All of a sudden, Alfred was plucked bodily off the ground and away from Antonio. Harry and the others stared in wonder up at the tall blond man. He looked a lot like Alfred, with blond hair and glasses though he had an intimidating expression on his face that Alfred hadn’t worn since that first night at Hogwarts. 

 

“L’t h’m b’r’th A’n’t’n’o,” the man said. Harry cocked his head, not actually sure what the man said. 

 

“Tusen tak, farsa. I suppose you all came to pick me up, too?” Alfred asked, looking back at the other four people with the tall man whose arms he currently occupied. 

 

“Ja! Figured we hadn’t seen you in so long, why not?” a tall man with spiky blond hair and droopy blue eyes said. 

 

“Aw, you didn’t hafta, Matt,” Alfred said. Ron cocked his head.

 

“I thought…” Ron looked back at Matthew and then to the man with the odd accent. 

 

Alfred laughed, “Oh! No, that’s Matthew. Or Mattie, as you’ve heard me call him. This is Mathias, or Matt. Or darling. I call him all three and many more.” 

 

“Um… introductions?” Ron asked. 

 

“Oh! Right! The man whom is currently cradling me oh so lovingly in his arms is Berwald, my other dad! Maybe. Obviously I introduced Mathias. The one with the curl is Lukas-” there was a hiss from Matthew “- and the other one is Lukas’ brother, Emil. Then the short blond one who is way too adorable for his own good is Tino! Berwald’s wife!”

 

“Husband! I am Berwald’s husband. Wait- hold on! We’re not even married,” Tino objected. 

 

“Stop complaining,” Alfred continued, “In any case, we’re getting out of here. So I’ll see you guys next year?” the trio nodded. Alfred hopped out of Berwald’s arms and sent them a little ahead. 

 

“Harry, be careful. I have a feeling that you’re going to do great things. Things that not even Dumbledore can do. And, Harry, keep your friends close. You’ll never know who you’re going to need. You have a destiny, Harry. And nobody can escape their destiny,” Alfred said. He winked, turned around and ran. About 20 feet from Harry and the others, and back in the arms of Berwald, he looked at Harry and called. 

 

“This is the end of an era, Harry. And the beginning of a new one. This, my friends, is the era of Wizards and Nations!” 

 

Harry wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but he was sure it was something that would be explained later. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (　　)(^　)(▽^ )(^▽^)
> 
> （⌒▽⌒）Ruby!
> 
> （＞ｙ＜）Sapphire!
> 
> ˶⚈Ɛ⚈˵
> 
> (~￣³￣)~
> 
> ヽ(･∀･)ﾉ━(∀･ﾉ)━(･ﾉ )━ヽ( )ﾉ━( ヽ･)━(ヽ･∀)━ヽ(･∀･)ﾉ
> 
> (〇*>∀<)ゞ★☆
> 
> Guys look. It's a fusion.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. Short chapter is short. Don’t worry, it’s just the prologue! Anyway, this is my second (published) fic, and first crossover! I would appreciate constructive criticism and flames will be fed to Natsu (hooray for Fairy Tail references!!!). 
> 
> “Series of sandstorms”- A reference to the Dust Bowl (also known as the Dirty Thirties) in which all across America experienced a deadly series of dust storms. I figured it would really affect Alfred. Poor Alfie-baby :,(!!!!
> 
> “He looked worse than I do” (in reference to Canada)- When the Great Depression hit, Canada ran into problems of it’s own. The gross domestic product dropped 40%, while in the US it only dropped 37%. Poor Mattie-baby :,(!!!!!
> 
> “A lot of heat from his former friend, Russia.”- At the time, though they weren’t at war, tensions were high between the two Nations. I say former friend, because the US was great friends with Russia before the whole Communism Is Shit thing. Also, Russia was the only country to aid the Union in the Civil War. RusAme is best ship. Fight Me. 
> 
> “The chromesthesia riddled Nation hated the sounds and colours of wars, and avoided them as much as possible.”- Another common form of synesthesia is the association of sounds with colors. For some, everyday sounds such as doors opening, cars honking, or people talking can trigger seeing colors. For others, colors are triggered when musical notes and/or keys are being played. People with synesthesia related to music may also have perfect pitch because their ability to see/hear colors aids them in identifying notes or keys.[26]  
> The colors triggered by certain sounds, and any other synesthetic visual experiences, are referred to as photisms.  
> According to Richard Cytowic,[3] chromesthesia is "something like fireworks": voice, music, and assorted environmental sounds such as clattering dishes or dog barks trigger color and firework shapes that arise, move around, and then fade when the sound ends. Sound often changes the perceived hue, brightness, scintillation, and directional movement. Some individuals see music on a "screen" in front of their faces. For Deni Simon, music produces waving lines "like oscilloscope configurations – lines moving in color, often metallic with height, width and, most importantly, depth. My favorite music has lines that extend horizontally beyond the 'screen' area." (taken from Wikipedia). I always imagined that Alfred would be that one Nation that tasted emotions and saw words/music notes/numbers/sounds in general as colours and floating around. Sue me. I support the headcanon with everything I’ve got.
> 
> “No, that was Mattie’s. I was Ravenclaw”- I always imagined Alfred in Ravenclaw. Himaruya himself (herself? Themself? Unsure of gender!!!!!) has said that America is smarter than he acts, and purposefully doesn’t read the atmosphere.


End file.
